


One Morning At Tor

by Legacy_Scarlettpeony (Scarlettpeony)



Series: The 'To You, An Admirer' Series [5]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, No Beta, Series 1 canon only, unbetaed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-17
Updated: 2010-03-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 19:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 75,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28192488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlettpeony/pseuds/Legacy_Scarlettpeony
Summary: Arthur and Guinevere have been separated. The world seems to be against them, but through the help of unlikely friends, they might yet be reunited.
Relationships: Gwen/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Merlin/Morgana (Merlin)
Series: The 'To You, An Admirer' Series [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2064168
Kudos: 4





	1. Chapter 1

Time seemed to lose all presence after Gwen left.  
  
No one in Camelot could tell whether the days and weeks were dragging or speeding by. Despite the fact that she had only been a servant everyone seemed to miss Guinevere’s presence. The people in town always looked over at the bordered up house whenever they went past where she used to live. In a town where everybody knew each other’s name not seeing Gwen walk to work in the morning was very strange. The servants in the castle had to get used to the fact that Cecilia was now the Lady Morgana’s principle handmaiden. It was especially hard for poor Cecilia who felt it was her fault that Gwen was gone and it put a strain on her friendship with Maud who was envious of her friend’s promotion. Even the nobility noticed the absence of Gwen, and more so than the younger knights that had to deal with Arthur’s distant and cold attitude to everything now.  
  
As soon as it was announced by Uther that Queen Anna would be visiting Camelot with Prince Gawain and Princess Elaine everyone knew exactly why the girl Gwen had been removed from the court if they did not know already. Arthur’s love for Gwen had been absolute and there were even rumours that his incarceration leading up to the girl’s exile had been due to his refusal to marry Elaine. What perplexed the older nobility was that he hadn’t been asked to give Gwen up. They couldn’t understand why Arthur couldn’t just have married Elaine and kept this maid as his mistress.  
  
The knights understood better.  
  
Arthur was not the type that fell in love easily. According to Kay (who the other knights agreed knew Arthur better than any of them) Arthur had never been in love before Guinevere. Prior to Gwen he had taken interest in girls for no longer than a week before he became fed up with them. This used to happen once every few months but, contrary to gossip, Arthur was by no means a womaniser. He was not a snow white virgin either but in their dealings with him the knights had all come to know the difference between the Arthur of rumour and the Arthur of truth. This was a distinction that Uther Pendragon could not make.  
  
Arthur used to have only two passions in his life; his training and his kingdom. Once he fell in love with Guinevere she became one of the few things he was passionate about. She was certainly the only person that aroused any deep love or excitement within him. Now she was gone he had returned to the basics; all he ever did was train.  
  
Then on occasion he would attend the council meetings in order to fulfil his second passion, his passion for Camelot. Even then he continued to make it clear to his father that he would not be producing any heirs to his father by refusing to discuss the subject. During one meeting four days after Gwen was exiled Arthur stood up and left the council chambers when Sir Ector raised the issue of the coming of Queen Anna, Prince Gawain and Princess Elaine.  
  
Rumour even had it that Arthur had not spoken to the king since the morning he was released from the dungeons. _That_ rumour was true.  
  
Not only had Arthur taken to walking out of council meetings that mentioned Elaine but he spoke actively while talking about the conflict in Rheged which, according to Ambassador Áedh, was now officially The Conflict of Hen Ogledd. The entire of the north was up in arms and it wouldn’t be long before the south of Albion. There was an outside chance that every kingdom in Albion would become involved. It would be ‘The War of Fifty Kings’ they said.  
  
The sickly fear of war and the beckoning call to battle was enough to distract Arthur for ten minutes before someone brought up Elaine again. Then he would leave.  
  
The thing that made matters worse as far as Uther was concerned was that Arthur purposely chose to ignore his orders and decided to follow his own instinct and his own belief in duty. This independence of mind was a great blow to Uther. Not only would Arthur not talk to him but he purposely chose to ignore his father’s existence.  
  
A young farmer named William from the Western villages trotted into Camelot on the back of a grey donkey. He looked a sorry a sight as he desperately asked for an audience with the king. When this was finally granted he told the court of a terrible beast hiding in the long crops, attacking people in his village as they tried to bring in the harvest and killing numerous villagers as they walked through the fields. Gaius was quickly able to identify the creature as a biscione, a giant grass snake to be more precise.  
  
“I will take some knights out to the western village and destroy the beast,” Arthur promised the farmer and declared to the whole court.  
  
“You should send the knights under Sir Leon’s command and remain here,” Uther ordered his son at the risk of being ignored once again. “We are expecting Queen Anna and Princess Elaine any day now. It would not do for you to be absent when they arrive.”  
  
“We will leave immediately,” Arthur added, completely ignoring his father. He turned to Merlin who looked at him solemnly; his master looked so distant and uncaring, like a statue. “Gather my things immediately, would you?”  
  
Merlin nodded and left the room immediately glancing in Morgana’s direction. Every look between the two of them cut Gaius, who observed the exchange between them, just as much as Arthur’s indifference towards his father’s wishes was to Uther. Gaius was just grateful that no one had noticed how close Merlin and Morgana were becoming. It was difficult for them not to notice Arthur’s distain for his father since it was on display to the whole court.  
  
Uther had had enough and he decided to confront Arthur in a place where he could not escape. The only way he could do that with some privacy was to go to his chambers. It was a practise that Uther had never thought of doing before now. Unless Arthur was either dying or... dead Uther would never step foot in his son’s chambers.  
  
It came as a surprise to both Arthur and Merlin, who was packing Arthur’s things for the journey, when the king entered the room without being announced or even knocking. Once the young manservant was dismissed by the king he turned to address Arthur who went on ignoring him as he spoke.  
  
“I’ve had enough of this ridiculous and childish behaviour,” Uther scolded, hoping to provoke anger in his son. “It is... undermining my authority. I ordered you not to go and you are preparing the leave.” Arthur did nothing other than offer him a neutral glance before carrying on with his preparations. The king went on, “You embarrass yourself more than you do me.”  
  
This had been the third time this week that Uther had whined at Arthur that week and about the sixteenth time overall. So like with all the other times he just ignored him. Even when Uther threatened to confine him to his chambers he gave him a look that _dared_ him to try. The entire conversation, if one could call it that, ended with Uther storming off and Arthur smiling in victory. Uther knew that if he were to keep Arthur in his chambers now he might refuse to come out when Anna, Elaine and Gawain arrived.  
  
The king had to accept defeat.  
  
Once he was gone Merlin poked his head around the door and re-entered the room. “Are you really never going to speak to your father again?” the young servant asked.  
  
“Not unless I have to,” Arthur retorted, pulling down what he was doing and leaving it to Merlin to take over. “Most of the things he says are absolute rubbish anyway. I get more things done by just doing them instead of arguing with him over it.”  
  
“Arthur!” Merlin chuckled amusedly under his breath. Arthur was not smiling nor even attempting to be funny in his words. The warlock realised this quickly and tried to keep the topic going; he had a purpose. “You should be careful or you might end up in the dungeons again.”  
  
“I don’t care what he does to me,” the prince muttered as he wandered towards the window. “Besides he’s not going to lock me up a few days before Aunt Anna turns up. He’d rather I wasn’t here than have to drag me out of incarceration and beg me to behave myself when they arrive.”  
  
“Is that way you’re going with the knights to destroy that creature?” Merlin questioned, “To get away from Camelot when Queen Anna arrives.”  
  
Arthur glanced over at him before turning back to the window. “Not completely... I always go with the knights to defeat creatures of this type. Besides,” he paused, clutching his forearms in his hands, “I haven’t had a chance to... inspect the western villages yet.”  
  
There was a spark of realisation that hit Merlin in the chest and head. Arthur had ‘inspected’ nearly every boarder of Camelot and even pulling strings with some of the neighbouring five kings to offer his services to defeat the terrible creatures in their parts of Dumnonia. The only part he had not ‘checked’ was the west. Uther had kept that border firmly controlled and guarded due to his dislike of the Cornish Duke Cador. Arthur had been waiting for an excuse to get close to the western border for weeks.  
  
“You never know what you might find out,” Arthur said cryptically.  
  
“You don’t need to speak in code,” Merlin said.  
  
Arthur rubbed his eyes furiously with his hands before hazily looking out at the painfully bright white sky. The summer was officially gone and the autumn was well underway. He swallowed, “She could have just vanished into thin air...”  
  
It hurt to even mention her name. It hurt to even _think_ of it but she was all he ever thought about.  
  
“So you’re no closer to... narrowing down where she might be?” Merlin asked timidly.  
  
“What do you think, Merlin?” Arthur snapped back, his response aptly matching the nervousness of his servant’s question. “Do you really think I’d be here and preparing to go and battle _a big grass snake_ if I had the faintest idea where Guinevere was?” The mention of her name still hurt despite the fact that he was the one who said it. He swallowed thickly and lowered his voice, “Do you think I’d waste a single second here in Camelot if I knew where to look for her?”  
  
Merlin raised his hands defensively. He knew the moment he asked that this would be the reaction. Uther had managed to remove Gwen from Camelot under cover of dark and without a trace. Everything she had owned had been collected from her old house and locked in one of the palace vaults to which only the king had the keys to. Only Fach had she been allowed to take. The old smithy where Gwen had been born and raised had been bordered up, including the old forge where Tom had proudly worked. There were rumours in town that he even planned to knock it down in an attempt to remove any trace of her existence. This made the people very angry but it infuriated Arthur.  
  
“I’m sorry” Arthur murmured after a long moment of silence. “I shouldn’t have lost my temper at you it’s just...”  
  
“I know,” Merlin nodded in response. “I know... and for what it’s worth I miss her too. We all do. Obviously it’s harder for you but...”  
  
Arthur nodded shallowly. “I just... I _have_ to find her, Merlin. Now, I’m running out of time because within the next few days Elaine will be here and--”  
  
The young warlock nodded. “Do you want me to come with you on this kill-a-grass-snake-outing?”  
  
“No, you’d better stay here” the prince replied. “I’m only taking Kay, Leon, Percival and Geraint with me along with a few of the guard. We’ll be gone no more than a day or so... you should stay here and help arrange Gawain and Elaine’s accommodation.”  
  
He said the word ‘accommodation’ as if he were spitting out poison. The chances were that the accommodation that Merlin put Elaine in might be where she remained for the rest of her life. The notion of it made Arthur sick in his stomach.  
  
“The main thing I’m grateful for is that I won’t be here when Aunt Anna shows up,” Arthur confessed finally aloud. “I’ll do anything to put off this marriage as long as possible.”  
  
“Maybe,” Merlin began but he trailed off and stopped. Arthur stopped and muttered a ‘What?’ waiting for Merlin to go one. After another moment he did, “I was just wondering if you could talk to Gawain about this... or even Elaine. They might know where Gwen is since rumour has it the exile was planned by your father and Queen Anna.”  
  
Arthur scoffed, “That’s an idea! I go up to my future wife and brother-in-law and ask them to tell me where their mother hid Guinevere.”  
  
“It is funny how even in the pits of your despair you _still_ manage to be as sarcastic as ever,” Merlin retorted. “It’s as if it’s an outlet for your grief.”  
  
Arthur said nothing. Instead he pushed Merlin aside and began to once again pack his things himself. The servant stood in silence and watched before Arthur muttered a dismissal under his breath. Merlin still said nothing as he walked to the door and opened it. “I’ll be back to help dress you in your armour and saddle your horse,” he finally said. ‘I can’t wait,’ Arthur murmured back and did not look up until the door was closed and Merlin was gone.  
  
He picked up a sword, looked at his reflection in the blade before placing it down again. He thought he looked so distant and tired these days. There was no colour in his cheeks; he had lost weight due to a loss of appetite and excessive training. He rarely smiled anymore. The most he could ever manage was a small upper tilt of the lips when Merlin in a vain attempt to cheer him up told a joke. Even then Arthur smiled more at the effort Merlin was making rather than the joke.  
  
After a moment of reflection Arthur walked over to the draws by his bed. He pulled out the largest draw and removed a thin piece of red velvet before reaching in for the thing he wanted. It was the silver fairy. He brought the precious treasure to his lips and kissed it fondly. If he was going to the western borders he intended to take the last part of Gwen that remained with him. It was like a token, her last token.  
  
He held it tight in his hand as he returned to packing and prayed that someone somewhere in the western village would have heard of Gwen whereabouts. If he didn’t find out something soon Arthur knew his belief in hope would die. Then there would be nothing.  
  
-  
  
Merlin made his way to Morgana’s chambers.  
  
Over the last few weeks in a bid to spend more time there without arousing suspicions towards their friendship Arthur had Kay inform Uther that he had lent Merlin part-time to Morgana to carry out the harder and heavier work until her new handmaiden was settled in her new position. That new handmaiden was none other than Cecilia, the girl that had first seen Arthur and Gwen kiss. It seemed ironic.  
  
Morgana hated having to ‘get used’ to Cecilia and made her displeasure very clear to the king. While Uther was eager to remain on speaking terms with Morgana, where he wasn’t with Arthur, he still failed to see the point of her displeasure.  
  
“If you don’t like the girl then choose a new handmaiden from among the other maidservants,” Uther had told her.  
  
“It’s not about disliking Cecilia!” Morgana had insisted. “This is about the fact that you exiled _my_ handmaiden, my friend! And now I have to put up with this stupid girl that doesn’t understand my routine or any of the tasks I set her.”  
  
“Then start from scratch!” Uther growled back at her. His head was hurting from Morgana’s complaints, Arthur’s silence and from the strain this whole event. He was beginning to believe it had definitely not been worth it. “It doesn’t take a genius to kneel on a floor and scrub it. Besides,” (he added coarsely), “if you liked Guinevere so much you should have advised her to spend less time in Arthur’s bed and more time scrubbing your chamber’s floor.”  
  
Despite missing Gwen just as much as Morgana was Merlin couldn’t help but feel bad for Cecilia being made to suffer at the hands of her touchy new mistress. This was why Merlin felt more than happy to lighten the burden on Cecilia’s shoulders until she was settled into her new job. God knew he relied on Gwen an awful lot in his first few rocky months as Arthur’s servant.  
  
Morgana was less prone to lose her temper at Merlin... but she still could lose it if she was frustrated enough. They both had good enough reason to feel frustrated and not just because of Gwen’s exile; they were still having the dreams. It was made even harder by their reluctance to share their problems with Gaius or even trust the sleeping draughts he made for them. Morgana flat out refused to take the potion and like a child she with bitter medicine managed to convince her gullible new maid that she didn’t need it. Merlin would just pour his potion away. They were both suffering from sleep deprivation and this was likely to real reason for Morgana’s short temper.  
  
Merlin knocked on the door wearily. He came bearing fresh linen so as not to arouse suspicion of the guards. Morgana had already been waiting on the other side of the door. The moment she opened the door the first thing Merlin noticed was the wideness of her eyes; she had slept so little that she felt too tired to even go to sleep.  
  
“Cecilia isn’t here,” Morgana told him. “In fact I sent her to get fresh linen.”  
  
“Well she’ll have had a wasted journey.” Merlin walked past her into the room and placed the linen down. He turned to face her, “Are you feeling okay?”  
  
She swallowed awkwardly, “I fine.”  
  
He tilted his head cautiously. “Are you sure because you look—”  
  
“I’m fine!” she snapped, clenching her eyes shut. The very sound of her high-pitched insistence cut right through her and Morgana rubbed her hands against her temples. “I’m just... tired. That’s all.”  
  
Merlin took a deep breath. “I’m tired too.”  
  
“That dream...” she groaned piteously. “It won’t go away... the fire, the blood, the forest—”  
  
“I know,” Merlin said distractedly. He walked to a window and looked outside. The whiteness and greyness of the clouds was painful to look up at. He sighed, “I had the same dream, remember? I may not see myself in the forest as you do but all the other things... the fire, the bloody, the death and torment _all of it_ is what I see too.”  
  
He stepped away from the window to see her red bloodshot eyes staring at him. “I’m so tired I can barely think but I’m too frightened to sleep and see it again...”  
  
Merlin nodded but approached his next few words with care. “I think we need to start talking the sleeping draughts again.”  
  
She looked at him as if he’d just suggested they swallow poison. “No!”  
  
“Well not taking it isn’t doing us any good, is it?” he retorted defensively.  
  
“The sleeping draughts didn’t exactly relieve our nightmares either!” Morgana shouted back, but took her voice down when Merlin lunged forward with his hands raised frantically for her to keep her voice down. “It may have helped you but the sleeping draughts have never done me any good.”  
  
“Come on, Morgana!” Merlin groaned in frustration. “You were never this bad when you were taking the sleeping draughts and I’m starting to miss the days when you were a logically thinking human being.”  
  
Morgana shot him a painful glare. “You know what? Me too because I miss the logically thinking Merlin because he might have found away to do that spell to find Gwen by now!”  
  
That hit him hard. Merlin had been trying to do a spell in order to locate where Gwen was for a while but had never managed to complete it. Every location spell used to find people required a possession of the lost person in order to find them, something that Merlin was unable to get.  
  
When he first suggested the idea to Morgana they had planned to take something from Gwen’s old home but the guards had cleared the house of its contents, bordered it up and stood watch on it. They then plotted to break into the castle stores and steal something from where Uther was keeping Gwen’s things but Uther had the only key to the hold. That would ordinarily be no problem for Merlin but there were guards there too.  
  
Merlin even tried to use a few location spell for objects in order to find Gwen but all of them said different things. One spell pointed towards her house, the other to the stores and the third one he did was able to trace her as far as Ynys Tor but after that, nothing. And she could have been taken anywhere from there to any of the kingdoms of Dumnonia, beyond the realm and even towards the sea coast. There was just no telling.  
  
After the third location spell Merlin admitted to Morgana that without an object belonging to Gwen he could not use a location spell that would tell them exactly where she was. This frustrated her even more.  
  
“I have tried everything,” Merlin finally said defensively. “I tried to break into the storage room again but I just don’t have enough time to get in, take something and get out.”  
  
“Use your magic!” Morgana snapped back.  
  
“Thank you for that enlightened suggestion!” Merlin said sarcastically. “I never would have thought of doing that if it wasn’t for you.”  
  
Morgana rolled her eyes. “I mean you obviously aren’t trying hard enough...”  
  
“I’m doing the best I can!” Merlin shouted now trying to keep control of his voice. His tiredness and grogginess was taking a toll on his temper also. He shook his head, “This dream and lack of sleep is draining me that I can’t concentrate my powers. I’m not... alert enough.”  
  
“What are you talking about?”  
  
“I’ll tell you what I’m talking about!” Merlin retorted harshly. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, “My powers exceed yours not just because I am stronger or better practised but because my sight is faster yours. I see things coming before any moral eye, gifted or not, whether it is arrow or an enchantment. I see things that are significant yet so small that no one even notices them.”  
  
He nearly went on but he took another breath and rubbed his eyes, “You know what? I’m not going to stand here and argue with you when we are clearly not in the right frame of mind...”  
  
“I’m only arguing with you because I’m worried about how lonely Gwen must be...”  
  
“You think I’m _not_ worried?” Merlin said trying to keep a lid on his irritation. He didn’t want to fall out with Morgana. “I think about Gwen all the time; how sad she must be, how far away from home and lonely. You’re not the only one who lost their friend, remember!”  
  
“Go to hell!” Morgana couldn’t think of anything productive to say to Merlin and without thinking she blurted out her frustration in those three words.  
  
“Fine, I’ll save you a seat next to the Morrigan,” Merlin hissed back. He picked up the linen he had brought without thinking straight and added, “And I don’t care what you think—I am taking that sleeping draught!”  
  
As Merlin left he slammed the door so loud that it echoed through both his and Morgana’s heads painfully. She wrapped her arms around herself a made a distressed sigh.  
  
Outside the room Merlin pitched his eyes shut nearly succumbing to the urge to just fall down there and sleep. He wasn’t able to stand close-eyed for long as Cecilia came up after her long and pointless trek to fetch Morgana’s fresh linen. She knew that if Merlin hadn’t brought it she would be yelled at by her short-tempered mistress. Gwen had often said that Morgana was a fairly reasonable lady most of the time so it had been a horrible shock to be stuck with someone so much the opposite.  
  
Cecilia assumed it was she blamed her for what happened to Gwen.  
  
“Merlin?” she said as she reached the top of the stairs.  
  
He opened his eyes and managed to smile. “Hello there, Cecilia.”  
  
“Were you just about to go in only you have the linen,” she said, pointing to his arms and smiling. Merlin looked down and wondered why he had picked up the sheets in the first place. In his tiredness he had started doing things that didn’t make sense.  
  
He handed them to her. “Sorry... I was just leaving. I should warn you that Morgana is in a killer mood so try to stay on her good side.”  
  
Cecilia sighed. “She seems to be very short with me that I’ve given up trying to stay on her good side.”  
  
“I sometimes forget she ever had one,” Merlin muttered to himself before turned to give Cecilia a smile. “She’s just a little upset still but over time... I think she’ll calm down. All she needs is a good night’s sleep.”  
  
And that was the truth. “Do you think what happened to Gwen is my fault?”  
  
Merlin stared at her. “Of course I don’t think that, Cecilia. It’s not your fault what happened and I know _Gwen_ wouldn’t want you to think it was your fault.”  
  
“I know but...” Cecilia said sadly. “It’s just how I feel.”  
  
“Well, don’t!” Merlin said arranging to find enough energy to raise his hands to her shoulders and smile at her kindly. “It’s like Gwen said at the time ‘If you hadn’t seen it someone else would have’, so don’t think it’s your fault. No one blames you, not even Morgana. I promise you she’s angrier with Uther than anyone else.”  
  
“Aren’t we all?” Cecilia said bravely. She placed her hand on Merlin’s wrist and smiled at him with a grateful sweetness that made Merlin feel a bit better after his argument with Morgana. “Thanks for talking to me, Merlin. You really are a good friend.”  
  
He sighed and walked towards the stairs. “I’m glad somebody thinks so.”  
  
-  
  
Tintagel was an ideal home for the Duke of Cornwall.  
  
It had been chosen many years ago by his ancestors to be the ideal spot for a headquarters. The watery passage that surrounded this chosen residence felt more like a vast sea than the tiny patch of water it was between the island and the mainland of Cornwall. The waves lapped on the beach lying directly below the castle and the winds were gusty and powerful. Even in the summer when the sun was warm and the grass was crisp the wind kept it cool for the people at Tintagel Castle. The castle itself was built along a cliff and if you were to sit on the edge it would make you feel as if you were hanging above the sea.  
  
The autumn was particularly wet and windy for Cornwall as a whole let alone those at Tintagel Castle. The skies were clouded over and rain was for certain. Yet despite the power of the window those who served Cador continued with their work. Those who did not have to work carried on as normal. To a person unfamiliar with life by the sea life at Tintagel would probably be shocking especially if they were used to life in a city where strong winds were silenced by the buildings and trees, and they were used to waking to the sound of clucking hens rather than croaking gulls.  
  
Yet Gwen quickly became used to it and like a duck to water she sat near the edge of the cliff holding Fach tightly in his grasp and embracing the wind playing with her hair. Even though in her darkest moments she would imagine how easy it would be for her to slip off the edge and fall to her death into the water below she could just as easily tuck such thoughts away and make herself believe she was, in some form, content.  
  
But she was not.  
  
Gwen sighed sadly. These momentary thoughts of ‘accidental-on-purpose’ slips and contentment were just flashes that took up very little of her thinking time. Mostly she went over and over and over her journey to Tintagel that night when she was removed from her life in Camelot and placed here at this dreamlike castle.  
  
She stroked Fach affectionately. After they removed her from the city they waited on the frightening dark path within the forest beside the citadel. That was when a guard rode up to Gwen upon her horse and showed her the tiny little bracket. It had been the one thing that Gwen could truly be grateful for at that moment. She hadn’t a clue where she was being taken but at least she would take Fach with her. It had been a plight that Gwen expected Uther Pendragon to grant but he had.  
  
They rode on through the dark woods. Gwen felt her heart race as well as break from far that they would be attacked by bandits. The record for the guards of Camelot was far from successful and Gwen felt she was more qualified to defend herself than they were. She was both devastated and frightened.  
  
Gwen had quietly sobbed under her hood although she was certain the guards had heard her as none of them dared to look at her. It had shamed her into forcing back her tears and trying her best not to even _breathe_ loudly. It was hard as all she could think about was the fact that she had left Camelot forever. She would never see Merlin and Morgana again, or poor Gaius, silly old Geoffrey or her silly young servant-friends like Gregory, Sarah and Erec.  
  
But naturally there was only one loss, one name and one face that hurt the most. The knowledge that she would never see Arthur again had been the thing that reduced her to tears. It tore at her whole body with agony as her blood pumped painful through her veins, chest and head. She literally thought her heart was failing under the pain and that any second she would fall from her horse dead.  
  
Gwen did not die although she wished she would so she wouldn’t have to feel it any more. Instead she clutched Fach close to her as the guards walked her slowly on.  
  
In the very early hours of the morning Gwen finally began to succumb to sleep and nearly did fall from her horse taking the ever faithful Fach with her. But the guards managed catch her as she nodded off and removed her to lie in a carriage. It had been a relief to the guards.  
  
It wasn’t until the sky had lightened that she woke again. Fach was barking at the sound of rain falling outside and the sound of flowing water. Gwen felt groggy from her grief and took a moment before she finally looked outside. The sky was a bright grey and it hurt her eyes to look at it. Once her eyes adjusted she realised that they had come to a river. After a while of riding alongside the river the party finally came to a halt. Gwen immediately stepped out, still holding Fach close to her. The head of the guards stepped forward and indicated the other side of the river. Even from a distance Gwen could see another party of guards waiting for her.  
  
“Isn’t this... the Tamar?” Gwen asked softly.  
  
The guard nodded, “That’s right. We will take you across the river where you will meet the Cornish guard, and they will take you the rest of the way.”  
  
“So I am to be exiled to Cornwall?”  
  
“I’m afraid we don’t know,” the guard explained, looking to his companions. “The king told us to bring you here to the Tamar where the Cornish guard would accompany you.”  
  
A moment of panic flashed behind Gwen’s eyes. She wondered if she would be taken further, maybe even away from Albion.  
  
She walked stiffly towards the boat where a quarter of the guard also stepped in to guard her. Gwen had never ridden on a real river before; it was a surprisingly frightening experience. Once on the other side the guards of Camelot remained in the boat and saluted the guards of Cornwall who stood on the banks. The Camelonian guards helped Gwen stand in the bobbing boat before a man dressed in a long green cloak with the symbol of a family Gwen vaguely recognised. He nodded politely to her and smiled before offering his hand to help her out of the boat. Gwen surprised him by handing Fach to him first, who he politely took and handed to another guard before once again offering his hand. She would have quite liked to get out of the boat herself but she did not trust herself not to fall in the river. And she was a terrible swimmer.  
  
Gwen took the man’s hand and was brought gracelessly ashore as she took her first steps on Cornish soil, pleased to have soil ground beneath her again. She turned and saw the guards that had accompanied her bow in respect again. ‘Thank you’ she found herself croaking. The Cornish guards then helped push the guards of Camelot off as they returned to the rest of their party and back to Camelot.  
  
There was a lump in Gwen’s throat; she knew she may never cross this river again.  
  
The Cornish guards lined up along the river and the man who had helped her ashore returned Fach to her arms. Gwen clutched the dog and looked up at him, her eyes still sore and weary from last night’s weeping.  
  
“Guinevere,” the man said politely, still smiling. “I am Jermyn, a personal servant to the Duke of Cornwall. I have been sent by him to accompany you back to Tintagel.”  
  
“Tintagel,” Gwen had repeated. She knew the name from conversations with Morgana as well as her father’s talks with Cador before he became the duke. She swallowed, “So I _am_ staying here in Cornwall?”  
  
Jermyn nodded. “Indeed, you will be taken from here onwards to Tintagel. You will stay there.”  
  
Gwen nodded slowly and let herself be led to the waiting horses nearby. Jermyn helped her onto a horse before handing Fach up to her again. “We hope to stay at a swift place—will you be able to ride fast with a dog in your lap?” he asked cheerfully. “We’ll also have to cross another path of water. I hope you’ll be alright with that.”  
  
“I’ll be fine,” Gwen replied shallowly. She felt bad for her lack of cheer but one kind face was not enough to make her feel better about what she had lost. She took Fach and nodded at him, “Thank you.”  
  
There was a loud crash above her head.  
  
Gwen looked up as little drops of rain hit her face. She knew it was time to get back to the castle. She quickly stumbled to her feet and tucked Fach under the cloth of her cloak to keep her dry before slowly making her way back. It was difficult to run across the hills of Tintagel. The rain became heavier. She trekked up the hill towards the gateway so by the time she reached the top she was soaked through.  
  
There were only a handful of servants at Tintagel but they all knew Gwen and she knew them already. They all stopped and looked at her as she stepped through the door, soaked to the bone. The old servant woman Ysgyrdav gasped when she saw her. “Gwen, get out of those clothes immediately or you’ll catch a cold.”  
  
Gwen put Fach on the stone floor. “I’m fine Ysgyrdav, really...”  
  
Ysgyrdav turned to her daughter Ysgudydd, a young woman around twenty-four years of age and youngest of the old servant’s children, and ordered her to fetch Gwen a blanket to keep her warm. “You must have a warm bath,” the old woman declared.  
  
“I’ll dry soon, really...” Gwen protested, hating the fuss all the servants were suddenly making over her. As Ysgudydd returned with the blanket about three others also came over with blankets while another servant tried to dry off fidgeting Fach. “Alright,” Gwen said as they wrapped the blankets around her, “I’ve been out in the rain not scaling the mountains.”  
  
The fuss in the hall alerted the attention of the master not only of Tintagel but the whole of Cornwall: Cador, The Duke of Cornwall himself. He stepped out of his study clutching some secret papers that he had been working on the last few months. He never conversed with anyone about them so the servants had no idea what it was about. They only knew that it was important. Cador never did any foreign work unless it was _important_.  
  
“Gwen,” Cador finally said, alerting his presence to the servants who immediately stopped and curtsied. Although not a kingdom in name Cador control the whole of Cornwall, a piece of land that was larger than many kingdoms in Albion. Yet he remained a duke. He went on with his words, “Gwen, my dear, you really should have a warm bath and change your clothes.” He turned to Ysgyrudav and Ysgudydd, “Run a bath for her, would you?” and he turned to two of the grooms, “Two of you make sure that Fach is dried and fed, while you,” he said addressing the third, “can fetch me some wine... and bring two goblets so Gwen can have some to warm herself up.”  
  
“That’s really not necessary,” Gwen quickly said.  
  
Cador turned to her and smiled, “How many times do I have to remind you? You are not a servant anymore! You don’t need to do things for yourself and don’t reject a drink from your guardian when he politely offers one.”  
  
Gwen looked down awkwardly and clutched two blankets around her while the third fell to the floor. “I’m sorry I’m just still not used to people being so, so...”  
  
“Polite?” And she inclined her head to confirm what he said. Cador outstretched his arm and guided her towards his large study where there was a fire burning. The paper he was clutching rustled at her shoulder. “Sit in here until the women call for you and dry yourself off.”  
  
Gwen obeyed as she found it easier to do what Cador wanted rather than refuse his kindness. Despite the opinion of him back in Camelot for being a cold-shouldered hermit he had shown Gwen nothing but kindness and understanding since she came to Tintagel. It occurred to her quickly that he knew everything of the reasons why she had been sent away from Camelot and was trying his best to distract her from her sorrow.  
  
Cador motioned Gwen into a comfortable seat in front of the fire before sitting in the seat opposite her. After another moment Jermyn returned with the goblets and wine, poured it out and handed out the two cups before placing the flagon on a table beside Cador and leaving. There followed another moment of silence as they sipped silently before Cador finally broke the silence.  
  
“I actually asked to see you earlier but Jermyn told me you had gone out again today,” he said.  
  
Gwen swallowed her wine clumsily, causing her nose to burn and her throat to cough. “Yes,” she croaked, “I hope you don’t mind.”  
  
“Not at all,” Cador replied politely. “I’m glad to see you are confident enough to explore the island. I admit there is nothing much here but the castle and a few small houses but it is a place of great beauty.”  
  
“Yes,” she agreed awkwardly. “What was it you wished to see me for?”  
  
“Just to ask you whether you were happy and if there was anything you desired to make your life here more comfortable,” Cador told her, watching her curiously. He noticed a small smile appear across Gwen’s face but it was a sad smile, one he recognised as he had made it many times before in the past. “Honestly, how are you finding it at Tintagel?”  
  
Gwen hesitated a moment before she placed her goblet down and pulled the blankets around her tighter. She was starting to feel very cold. “Tintagel is... very different from Camelot, sire.”  
  
“Please don’t call me ‘sire’,” Cador said, before tilting his head to pick up her meaning. “Then you still long for home.”  
  
She wasn’t going to lie. “I am very grateful for your kindness towards me, Cador, but I do miss Camelot. I miss it more than I can say. I miss my home, my friends and—”  
  
Gwen stopped, unable to even say Arthur’s _name_ for fear it would make her relive all that pain she felt when she was forced to leave Camelot. She glanced up at Cador. He wore an understanding and sympathetic face as if he understood exactly how she was feeling.  
  
“I know you do,” he said softly. “And I hope within time you will find the happiness you long for.” Cador often said things like that and it intrigued Gwen to ask what he meant when he said things like that. But he just smiled and changed the subject slightly. “In some ways I miss Camelot too even though it has been so many years since I last went there.”  
  
Gwen smiled sadly again. “Everyone was sad to see you go, Cador.”  
  
Cador nodded, “And I was sad to leave it too despite what Uther would have people think. It was always my father’s (whose name was Hoel) dream that one day the kingdoms of Dumnonia and Cornwall would reunite under a single king. In the old days Camelot used to be the centre of all the west’s power...” he sighed, “but that was over a hundred years ago. I doubt unification of Dumnonia alone will happen any time soon.”  
  
Gwen agreed, “From what I hear the five kings _are_ always at odds over something.”  
  
“Indeed,” Cador grinned. “You know it is all about power and control? The thing that plagues them is that all but one of the five is either middle-aged or old. Among the five kings only three of them ever married—all three are now widowers—and of that three only two of them had children and only one had a son. That is Uther’s son, of course, _your_ Arthur.”  
  
Gwen blushed and looked down. Cador usually called him ‘her Arthur’ and while it embarrassed her to know that he was fully aware of what passed between her and Camelot’s prince she would never object to him being hers. As far as she was concerned Arthur was hers and always would be. Just as she felt she would always be his and no one else’s.  
  
Cador took another sip of wine. “I know everything about the plots and plans of Dumnonia just as well as I know my own realm. Especially now that _damned_ Lot is bringing his brother’s war southward—”  
  
“It is Prince Claudius that brings it south,” Gwen corrected him.  
  
Cador scoffed. “I knew Lot when I was your age and he was a pushy old sod even then. I tell you, Guinevere, that man has ambitions as well as a fowl temper. He had control over the north and he wants to move his influence down here too. He was punching the air when this war broke out, I promise you; he was probably _delighted_.”  
  
It had been a long time since Cador had had a chance to talk about the other kingdoms. Isolated in his castle on the sea he knew only what his officials on the mainland told him yet there was no one in his home to talk to about it. Jermyn was a clever servant and trusted friend but showed little interest. He found that Gwen was well versed in the goings on in Albion from conversations with Arthur. It proved an interesting outlet for him that surprised even his servants.  
  
“Arthur rarely had a nice thing to say about Lot either,” Gwen finally agreed.  
  
“A brilliant king but a terrible husband and father,” Cador finished.  
  
There was something about his composure that made Gwen believe there was more to his dislike of Lot than just his personality but she wasn’t sure what it was. Her curiosity to find out more about that wonderful nobleman who her father had thought the world of and that had given her that beautiful green box and the beloved silver fairy was enough sometimes to distract her from her sadness.  
  
Cador changed the subject. “I expect Uther will be ushering his neighbours into Camelot before long to negotiate a treaty and convince them to ‘defend Dumnonia’ and not try and take his lands while his army are off fighting for Lot if he can’t convince them to do it themselves.”  
  
“You don’t think they would, do you?”  
  
“There is no point as none of them has an heir to think of,” Cador assured her. He smiled and leaned back in his chair, “I think all of the kings have accepted that one day their lands will fall to the Pendragon clan. Alined only cares about his wealth; as long as he can be buried with all his riches he doesn’t care who inherits his mistreated people when _he_ dies. Margh is so old he probably _will_ be buried before Dumnonia gets a sniff of war. Olaf has only Vivian to think of and as long as she gets keep the castle and marries a Cymric prince with access to a goldmine I don’t think _she_ cares what happens to her kingdom when her father dies.”  
  
Gwen chuckled, “And what about the fourth king?”  
  
Cador shook his head, “Melwas is the only one _I’d_ be worried about. He is still young enough to think it worth starting a fight with Arthur one day.”  
  
Gwen hoped that wasn’t true as stories of King Melwas had reached even the ears of the servants. He could be a reasonable man when he wanted to be, but when someone had something that he wanted all that reason went out the window. He would snatch the thing he wanted and keep it for himself. Gwen dreaded to think of Camelot falling under the influence of such a wayward man.  
  
She decided to move away from the subject slightly. “Do you ever worry about Cornwall’s defence, Cador?”  
  
He smiled, “All the time—that is why my army is so vast. It costs a lot to keep them patrolling the borders and truth is they could probably use a good war. Thankfully my tin and gold exports keep them fed and happy if not a little bored.”  
  
At that moment Ysgudydd walked in a bowed politely. “Sorry to interrupt but your bath and fresh clothes are prepared, my lady.”  
  
Cador placed down his cup and stood as Gwen got to her feet. He was still a gentleman at heart and it made Gwen felt awkward once again at being treated as more than ‘just a servant’. Only Morgana had ever treated her slightly better than a servant and only Arthur could make her forget she was a servant altogether.  
  
“Let us hope the cold has not set in,” he said softly as she made her way to the door.  
  
Gwen turned and smiled faintly. “Thank you again for your kindness.”  
  
Cador smiled back, “It is my pleasure. Think of it as a thank you to your father for all the fine armour and swords he made for me all those years ago.”  
  
And with one last smile between them Gwen closed the door and Cador was left alone in his study once again.


	2. Chapter 2

The small travelling party consisted of just Arthur, Kay, Leon and Geraint as well as several of the guard. It was based on Gaius’s advice as to how many men would be needed to kill this ‘demonic creature’ that the farmer William described. He too would accompany them on the journey back to his village on the western front. Originally Arthur had intended to take Percival with him but after a leg injury during training Gaius advised him to remain off his leg for at least two days so Arthur chose Geraint instead. It had not escaped the attention of the other knights that Arthur still distanced himself from Lamorak. It was nice seeing that little weasel backed into a corner.  
  
Merlin saddled up Arthur’s horse while they waited for the rest of the knights to come out. Eventually they began to file out one by one. Geraint was first before he was quickly followed by Leon who sad one final goodbye to his wife Lady Leon before rushing down to meet the others. The very sight of Leon and his wife stuck a dagger through Arthur’s heart and he had to look away. The last one to step out was Kay and he was accompanied by Lady Bedivere and her two boys.  
  
That was even harder to watch.  
  
Kay ruffled the hair of both of the boys before taking Lady Bedivere in his arms and embracing her before mounting his horse. She stood on the steps with her sons’ hands in each of hers and watched as he trotted over to join the other men.  
  
The young knight was smiling until he saw Arthur’s rather put-off face. He looked down awkwardly, “Excuse me, sire, I was just saying goodbye to Gladys.”  
  
Arthur looked up and forced a smile. “You are entitled seeing as you are engaged.”  
  
“That reminds me,” Kay suddenly announced and turned to Leon. “I spoke to Gladys about what Leonora said; little Bedivere and Lucas really liked playing with your little Leon and want to know if they could do it again.”  
  
Leon laughed, “Yes, Nora said! She said she’d be talking to Gladys about it while we’re away, girl talk and all that.”  
  
Before Kay could make his reply Arthur cleared his throat very loudly. Merlin looked between his master and the knights awkwardly before stepping back, realising that Arthur wanted to leave. The knights all looked at him but he did not look back instead muttering, “If you could discuss your private lives in your spare time I’d be very much obliged, gentlemen. Or if you _must_ discuss it, do it on the journey to the village rather than holding us up here in the courtyard.”  
  
Kay and Leon mutter in unison, “Excuse us, sire.”  
  
Arthur offered Merlin one final glance. The young manservant knew that any talk of wives and fiancées just reminded him that he too was to be engaged and swiftly married... to a woman that was not Guinevere. Kay and Leon knew this but deep down Arthur did not begrudge them their happiness, especially not Kay. In many ways he felt happy for him and was glad Kay, unlike Arthur, had not lost Lady Bedivere because his father disapproved of her. There was nothing to disapprove of, damned perfectly matched pair.  
  
The prince caught another sight that irritated him, another old married couple walking arm in arm. It hurt so much just to look at them, this old pair! He decided then that he had to leave before looking like a fool in front of the knights and the guard. “Typical,” he muttered to Merlin, if anyone, with his eyes firmly fixed on his reins, “that everyone is allowed to have their love for a wife but me.” His eyes turned to Merlin, “Ensure that my cousins are given adequate accommodation.”  
  
Merlin nodded, “Adequate and far away from your chambers, sire. I promise.”  
  
Arthur managed to smile before he assured the neutral face of a prince and finally drove his horse on, beckoning his knights to follow. “Onwards,” he called to them, “if you must prattle on then do it at a steady pace.”  
  
Merlin stepped back with the other menservants and bid the prince, the knights and guards farewell. “Good luck with your lot, Merlin!” Kay said, turning and chuckling before returning to his conversation with Leon earlier. “I have always wondered what the girls do when we’re not watching.”  
  
Leon shrugged, “Nora likes to paint, play musical instruments, read...”  
  
“Gossip,” Geraint jumped in. “Not just Nora, I mean, girls in general. I have yet to meet a woman yet that did not enjoy a good wrangle with a few other women about whether so and so did such and such. They also do a lot of sewing...”  
  
“Brush their hair,” Kay added with a smile.  
  
“Style their hair,” Leon agreed, before further saying, “not to mention doing their make-up. Goodness, sometimes it takes Nora hours to prepare in the morning...”  
  
Arthur had enough! He urged his horse further on to get away from the domestic conversation between his men unable to bear any more. It forced the knights to abandon their talks in order to keep up with him. At the end of the trail the poor, slow and overwhelmed farmer William trotted after them on his donkey in a desperate attempt to keep up with them.  
  
Merlin watched until Arthur was out of sight before he turned to go back inside. He excused himself to the other menservants and made his way to home. He was still annoyed from his argument with Morgana and tired from rushing around all morning helping Arthur prepare to leave.  
  
It didn’t help that he still hadn’t fully forgiven Gaius for tricking him and helping Uther in exiling Gwen. It wasn’t even so much what he did to Gwen that still hurt Merlin so much (although it did hurt) but the fact that he used something that he knew had been tormenting not only Morgana but him too in order to fulfil Uther’s wishes. It was like being sold out... only less deadly. He could understand Gaius’s reasons and the difficulty of the situation. Merlin didn’t even feel angry (He had not the energy to feel angry). He just felt betrayed and it the reason he felt so sore about it was that of all the people to betray him... it was Gaius.  
  
Merlin walked through the door and found Gaius at his bench preparing what looked like another sleeping draught for him and Morgana. He looked up the moment he heard his assistant walk in. The old man wasn’t stupid, he knew that Merlin hadn’t been taking the draught and now he was being affected by the lack sleep it was obvious.  
  
“You’re home early,” Gaius finally said as Merlin rested against the door. “Has Arthur already gone?”  
  
Merlin sighed, “Yep—he’s left me to deal with the arrangements for Princess Elaine and Prince Gawain. I don’t know where to begin.”  
  
“I’m sure Gawain will be happy with his usual apartments,” Gaius said absently as he added another ingredient to the concoction. “Elaine was just fourteen the last time she was here and she usually had a chamber linked to her mother’s apartments. I’m sure Anna would wish the same now but I imagine Elaine will desire a larger room.”  
  
“As long as it is as far away from his chambers Arthur doesn’t care where Elaine is,” Merlin told him, walking over to a chair near the bench and collapsing into it.  
  
“The furthest rooms away from Arthur’s chambers are in the far-northern wing of the castle,” Gaius advised Merlin helpfully. “That part of the castle provides the largest family living area in the castle.”  
  
Merlin groaned, “But those rooms haven’t been used in years. I’ll have to clean them out.”  
  
“I’m only trying to help,” the old man said putting another herb into the remedy. “If you need to clean it out then get Cecilia to help you. I imagine she won’t mind getting away from Morgana to do something better. You could ask Gregory, Sarah and Erec—his arm is out of the sling at last.”  
  
Merlin sighed, “If Gwen were here she’d have helped me...”  
  
“Although I’m not sure how comfortable she’d have been preparing the room of the woman set to marry Arthur,” Gaius muttered without thinking.  
  
Merlin’s reaction was to just smile; had Gwen still been here things would have been very different. He certainly wouldn’t have asked her help in preparing Elaine’s chambers. He didn’t really want to do it himself. In his mind he imagined Elaine to be a snobbish princess like all the others in Albion. He dreaded to think that he might be stuck with her for the rest of his life if she does marry Arthur...  
  
He jumped out of his chair and walked towards his room before he stopped and turned around. “Gaius may I have my sleeping draught tonight, and could you send one to Morgana too?”  
  
The old man looked up, “Do you promise not to waste it?”  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“Then I’ll make you both one as soon as I have finished these two off,” Gaius said, mixing the new sleeping draught together.  
  
Merlin tilted his head. “I thought—so who do these two bottles belong to?”  
  
He picked up the bottle to look at it. It was a slightly different colour to the ones Gaius usually gave to Morgana and him.  
  
Gaius glanced at him again debating for a second whether to answer. “That one is for Princess Elaine and the one I am making now is for Queen Anna.”  
  
“Do they have trouble sleeping?”  
  
“Sometimes,” Gaius admitted, hoping his young friend wouldn’t ask too many questions. “Elaine has a whole manner of problems but these are not just sleeping draughts.”  
  
“What are they then?” Merlin asked.  
  
Gaius took the bottle from his hand. “It is medicine for a different affliction.”  
  
“And they both suffer from the same ‘affliction’?” the young warlock said thoughtfully, picking up on Gaius’s unease at discussing it. “So it is hereditary?”  
  
“I suppose so,” Gaius said with equal thoughtfulness having never considered that possibility before although it was obvious. “Anna inherited _this affliction_ from her mother. Fortunately Arthur’s mother never... displayed _strong_ symptoms for the affliction the way that Anna did.”  
  
Merlin had suspected for a while that magic ran somewhere in Arthur’s family ever since Gawain told him that Elaine had ‘a touch’ of magic the evening after the joust. Now Gaius was preparing a very specific potion for both the princess and the queen. It made the whole alliance very risky and Merlin even momentarily feared for Elaine’s future if Uther were ever to realise the truth. Would the famed Queen really take that risk with her daughter’s life with the knowledge of her brother-in-law’s hatred of magic?  
  
“What about ‘The Black Knight’? I mean, when he was a man, did he ever display the... affliction?” Merlin asked, his eyes hinting that he knew what Gaius was trying to avoid telling.  
  
Gaius looked up at him again. “I believe this affliction only affects the _female_ side of the family. It tends to pass over generations when males are concerned.”  
  
“How do you know all this?”  
  
“Because the queen’s mother told me she inherited it from her grandmother,” Gaius said, noting the knowing look in Merlin’s eyes and keen to keep the conversation going. He missed the ‘engaging’ talks through Merlin’s frequent reminding him that he still hadn’t forgiven him for what happened to Gwen. “And I knew the queen’s mother very well and her husband too.”  
  
“They sound like a colourful family,” Merlin admitted, wondering how Arthur would react to knowing about a natural gift (of which he knew nothing) ran in his own family tree. “I just think it’s a good job Arthur doesn’t want to have children else Uther might be responsible for the deaths of several of his granddaughters.”  
  
Gaius finished the draught and placed it down. “How strong do you want the sleeping draughts?”  
  
“As long as you aren’t trying to sneak another of my friends out of Camelot behind my back I don’t care if you used ‘The Invincible Spell’ on me,” Merlin muttered.  
  
There it was! “I’ll make it strong since neither of you have slept well for over a week now.”  
  
Merlin nodded, “Thank you.”  
  
The lack of sleep reminded him that he was still angry with Morgana over their argument. He stepped into his room and looked over at the desk in the corner. On it were all those spells that he had written out neatly with added corrections, improvements and notes that he had discovered while using the spells. Now they were all bound together with wax and string ready to have a cover attached to them. All he needed was to find a book the right size that Gaius wouldn’t miss...  
  
Merlin threw a blanket over the whole lot!  
  
He didn’t want to think about magic right now. Instead he just wanted to get the rooms prepared (and he would enlist the help of his friends), take the sleeping draught and go to bed so that when he awoke in the morning for the _possible_ arrival of Anna, Elaine and Gawain he would be fresh and alert even if he did have the _dreaded_ dream.  
  
Then he would have the right mindset to face Morgana again. He was glad about that as these days Merlin began to feel that she really was the only person he could talk to about his magic. He didn’t feel as comfortable talking to Gaius anymore after what happened. Merlin felt over time he would be able to trust Gaius again but for now... Merlin just hoped Morgana would follow his example and take the sleeping draught too.  
  
Then maybe he could help her.  
  
-  
  
Despite her earlier protests Gwen did feel better once she was in the bath. In her whole life she had rarely enjoyed the luxury of having a long soak in the tub and was only able to wash herself while standing in a bowl. There were always trips to the local bathhouse but it was frowned upon for any respectable girl to go due to the ‘goings on’ down there so Gwen had always been certain to go with a good crowd of girls if she did dare go.  
  
The only thing that Gwen disliked about having baths was that Ysgyrdav sat to the side of the room by the screen watching her.  
  
The first time she took a bath after coming to Tintagel Castle she had been alarmed by the old servant’s insistence on helping her by offering to wash her back, clean her hair, brush her hair, dry her... it was all too much. Gwen had spent most of her life serving other women in this way but now she received the attention it had felt bizarre.  
  
Ysgyrdav had found Gwen’s embarrassment funny.  
  
“You need not cover up for me, my dear,” she said amusedly. “I have had six daughters and seven sons so the nakedness of young people does not vex me nor should it vex you.”  
  
She had waited patiently until Gwen finally removed the cloth she had wrapped around her body and held back her hair while she climbed awkwardly into the bath.  
  
After a week of scenes like this Gwen became used to Ysgyrdav’s constant company even when she was sitting naked in the tub. She imagined it was the same for most nobility; they eventually become desensitised to showing their modesties to their maidservants or menservants. That said Gwen still insisted on doing a lot of things such as dressing and bathing _unaided_.  
  
Gwen looked over at Ysgyrdav. The old woman was laying out the cloth to dry her young mistress and then disappeared behind the screen to pick up the wet discarded clothes to send them to be washed. When she returned and sat down again she noticed Gwen watching her.  
  
“Is there something you’d like to ask?” Ysgyrdav asked knowingly.  
  
Gwen turned to look at the warm water running down her fingers. “I was just wondering about Cador and whether he ever received any visitors to the island. I’ve been here over two weeks now but I’ve never seen anyone apart from the neighbouring barons come here.”  
  
“The Duke has more or less kept himself in semi-isolation ever since his brother died about thirteen years ago,” the servant woman explained. “He travels very little and the only contact he receives outside Cornwall is the occasional letter.”  
  
Gwen lay back in the warm water and sighed, “I wonder why he never married and had children.”  
  
Ysgyrdav smiled. “Cador took the oath of chivalry when he was a young man long before the former duke Gorlois died.”  
  
“Why?”  
  
“The same reason most men take the vow,” the woman replied, not ashamed to reveal her master’s past to the young woman. It was by no means a secret after all and Gwen was bound to hear about it some time. “He was in love with a young woman but she married another man.”  
  
“And there was never anyone else?”  
  
“He never bothered to look for anyone else,” Ysgyrdav explained sadly before she suddenly chuckled and added, “But it doesn’t help that to this day Cador remains completely in love with the woman that broke his heart over twenty years ago. He will still do anything she asks of him and – _my god_ – does that woman have plans!”  
  
The old servant walked up to her with the fresh cloth. Gwen climbed out of the bath and allowed Ysgyrdav to wrap it around and around her just like mothers did with children, snugly tucking her up tightly inside the warmth of the cloth so she would dry quickly.  
  
Gwen tilted her head curiously. “What was the woman’s name?”  
  
Ysgyrdav did not reply but brought out the fresh and dry clothes for Gwen to dress in before hurrying her behind the screen. “Do you need any assistance with the fastening, my dear?” the old woman called after a few minutes.  
  
“No,” Gwen said uncomfortably before relenting. “Actually, yes I do—if you don’t mind...”  
  
Ysgyrdav aided her without another word. She could understand Gwen’s pride in being able to do many things herself having been a servant all her life.  
  
Once the dress was done up another servant entered to inform Gwen that it was time for dinner and that Cador requested her presence. That was another thing she had to get used to. Gwen was used to a much simpler life. It had taken her a while to adjust to people making her dinner for her rather than having to do it herself. Usually Cador left Gwen to eat dinner privately in her room but sometimes he asked her to join him. It felt strange sitting at a long table, she at one end and Cador at the other surrounded by more food than either of them could ever eat. Gwen always tried to force down more than she really wanted – she didn’t have much of an appetite anyway – and then having a tummy ache later that evening.  
  
It seemed that the duke didn’t have much of an appetite either, barely touching his food. Gwen could think of nothing better to do than take a large swig from her wine cup. After a long period of silence Cador finally tried to strike up a conversation with her.  
  
“How are you finding Ysgyrdav as a servant woman?” he suddenly asked.  
  
Gwen swallowed her drink hard. “She is very... attentive, thank you. She has a habit of doing things whether want her to or not.”  
  
“She is just trying to take care of you.”  
  
“I know,” she replied quickly. “I am very grateful for everything she does but I’m still getting used to it.”  
  
“Well, you’ll get used to it in time,” Cador assured her with a smile. “I think it’ll make good practise for you.”  
  
Gwen wasn’t sure what he meant but ‘good practise’ but she wasn’t interested enough to pursue that line conversation. Instead she thought of what Ysgyrdav had told her about Cador and his past. Her thoughtfulness did not go unnoticed.  
  
He tilted his head and smiled. “You seem distracted this evening, Gwen. Is there something on your mind?”  
  
She looked up. “I was just thinking about something Ysgyrdav told me...”  
  
“About me?”  
  
“Yes,” Gwen admitted. “She mentioned that you took the Oath of Chivalry when you were younger.”  
  
“Yes I did when I was twenty-three,” Cador confirmed. The middle-aged man looked down at his full plate and sighed. “I didn’t think it would matter because I always assumed my brother would marry again, have an heir and the family line would be secure... but he has died and now only Morgana and I remain. Once I die and Morgana marries there ends our family house.”  
  
Gwen tilted her head. “The Oath of Chivalry is not unbreakable... is there no one you could cast your eye upon with favour?”  
  
Cador did not know how much Ysgyrdav had told Gwen about his past but he decided to tease her nonetheless. “You mean apart from your good self?”  
  
She chuckled amusedly, “I’m being serious, my lord...”  
  
“So am I!” he laughed with equal amusement. He crossed his arms and smiled, “Honestly, Guinevere, had you been born twenty years earlier... but alas here you are just bursting into womanhood and here I am nearly half a century in age and losing my looks.”  
  
Gwen nodded her head gratefully. “Well, I’m flattered, my lord... and for what it’s worth you are still good-looking in an ‘older man’ sort of way.”  
  
Cador gave her a surprised look. “I’ll take that as a compliment...shall I?”  
  
“Not that I’m saying you are old,” she quickly added. “I just meant... older than me.”  
  
The duke sighed from his laughter. “Well if I thought I could get away with it I’d steal you for myself but I restrain myself in respect for your late father, my dearly missed friend Thomas.” His tone then changed to a more serious and thoughtful note, “No, in my whole life there was only one woman I ever truly loved... but I lost the chance to marry her and in the end she married someone else.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” Gwen said sympathetically.  
  
She understood more than anyone how he must have felt when that first happened. The thing that was especially sad is that Cador appears to have never recovered from the loss of the woman he loved. Gwen felt wounds would never heal either, and Cador confirmed it. The rest of her life Gwen felt she would be haunted by memories of Arthur, what they had and how it had all been cruelly snatched away from her. She placed her hands on her lap and sat back.  
  
Gwen managed to maintain her solemn little smile as she looked down at the plates on the table and slowly picked up an apple. Cador continued to watch her a few seconds longer before he too returned to the plates. Yet he still spoke.  
  
“I find myself already fond of you,” Cador confessed suddenly, causing Gwen to look away from her apple. “If I ever had married and had a daughter of my own I would have been pleased if she showed merely half the nobility I have seen in your character, Guinevere.”  
  
She placed down the apple on her own plate. “Thank you, my lord.”  
  
“The thing that makes me sad is that you seem so sad,” Cador said as if making some long withheld confession to his charge. “You seem like the sort of girl that usually smiled a lot, makes the best of everything and always finds reason to be cheerful yet... every time I see you smile it is such a sad smile and nothing seems to take it away.”  
  
Gwen looked down. “I’m sorry if it offends you...”  
  
“It doesn’t I just hate to see such a lively young woman so crestfallen,” Cador finished. He pushed his plate aside and propped his chin on in his hands regarding her. “I wish there was something I could do.”  
  
Gwen looked up again and smiled gratefully. “My lord, you have already been too kind to me in taking me in and treating me with such respect and consideration despite my station in life. I am _very_ content with life here and would still be so were it half as comfortable as it is. The reasons for my sadness... I will have to live with them.”  
  
She paused awkwardly as her expression became sadder but she still forced herself to smile.  
  
“Being sent away from Camelot did not lessen my love for...” she paused again, swallowed and went on, “but _intensified_ it all the more. I suppose it’s because now I have only memories, and I can no longer make new ones.”  
  
Cador watched her with interest. “I wouldn’t give up, Gwen. There is always hope.”  
  
“I suppose there is but...”  
  
The duke leant forward with renewed seriousness. “I mean it, Gwen. Never give up on hope because I did and look at me now; I’m a reclusive duke rarely speaks to anyone.”  
  
She sighed softly, “Part of me never wants to give up hope that one day... but I know it’s silly to hope that things will ever be as they were before.”  
  
“In that case hope for better things,” Cador advised her slyly. “They just might come true.”  
  
Part of her wanted to believe him but as the days drew on all Gwen feared was that over time she would truly be forgotten by people she knew and loved in Camelot. She didn’t mind being unhappy as long as they remembered her. The thing she feared the most was that Arthur would forget. In heart she knew he wouldn’t but she feared it so much.  
  
But above all things she dreaded the day when news finally reached Tintagel that Arthur had finally succumbed to fate and married Elaine.  
  
-  
  
The word – or rather the _warning_ – that Queen Anna and her entourage were approaching Camelot came two hours in advance. Uther had set up a swift-riding messenger to station himself on the main road and to hurry back the moment he saw them coming over the horizon. This allowed for the castle to make any last minute preparations for this astonishingly important guest descending on the city. Uther never knew where he was with Anna so he always wanted to make things appear as perfect and smoothly running as possible even if she knew at the back of it the structure behind Uther’s plans were falling to pieces.  
  
Merlin had spent most of yesterday afternoon and evening preparing the assigned chambers for the royal family. It was ultimately decided that Anna and Elaine should share adjacent chambers while Gawain was placed somewhere close by. Uther declared that the far- _eastern_ quarters were the best choice. That was annoying for Merlin who along with Sarah, Erec and Gregory had spent a good few hours cleaning out the far-northern quarters.  
  
“It’s just as well we cleaned it out,” Sarah had said to Merlin as they picked up their brooms and buckets to tend quickly to the far eastern quarters. “Everyone knows that Uther had been keeping it empty for when Arthur marries and has a family of his own. That’s where the old nursery is, after all.”  
  
“It’s a bit big for just Elaine,” Merlin muttered.  
  
The far eastern quarters were slightly smaller, close to where Percival, Lamorak and their sick mother’s chambers were and, while not as far away from Arthur’s chambers as he might have liked, it was far enough for Arthur to avoid ever seeing Elaine except at formal dinners. Plus it was not nearly has dusty or abandoned as the northern quarters so there was not too much work needed to prepare it for the next day.  
  
Uther and Ambassador Áedh came to inspect the room after the servants had done. The king did everything save running his finger along the table to check for dust. In the end he grunted an approval and Áedh agreed that the room was “ideal” for the queen and her daughter. Merlin was then told that he would be responsible for ensuring the two of them had everything they needed when they arrived. He would also serve as a temporary servant to Gawain, which Merlin didn’t mind as he liked Gawain.  
  
The party from Eidin finally arrived in the afternoon of the next day. The Pendragon banners had been flying since early that morning and servants had been on stand-by for any chance of an early arrival, as it was just like Anna to make her men speed up in an attempt to catch Uther in his nightshirt as it were. The kitchen staff had been up since five that morning (and many hadn’t even bothered to go to bed) preparing the dinner that would be held that evening. As could be expected, cook was still her lively self – yelling insults about the nobility, about the queen and her spoiled children, and then she brought up the subject of Gwen and how she was certain ‘that Orcadian princess’ couldn’t hold a candle to ‘our Guinevere’. And they agreed; deep down they all blamed this princess for their friend’s exile.  
  
Uther watched the banners of Lot sailing in the distance and get closer and closer before he finally decided to go down to the courtyard to greet his sister-in-law.  
  
As he made his way down he thought of just two things; first, of Anna and how quickly she seemed to have reached Camelot (Although it had been several weeks) and second, of Arthur and how he had failed to return from the quest of killing the biscione in time to greet his aunt. There had been no news to Uther knew it could only be Arthur being awkward, taking his time to get to the western border and return. This was unfair as it took several hours to reach the border and by the time he would have reached there it would have been nightfall.  
  
A small crowd of people watched as the Queen rode into the courtyard. In her youth Anna had been very popular with the people of Camelot despite their dislike for King Lot (and therefore his children). Gawain had won their love and approval when he visited last May but Elaine has even more reason to be resented; like the servants they also blamed her for what happened to Gwen. Yet they all took to the street just to catch a glimpse of Elaine ‘the Fair’.  
  
They were to be disappointed as while Anna rode upon a horse waving to the crowd she had been certain to conceal her daughter in a carriage even as they rode through the city. Most parties would stop, get out of their carriages and climb onto horses in a royal procession but Anna seemed determined to keep Elaine hidden like a surprise present. The truth was that Anna did not wish to expose her daughter too much to ridicule of the common people.  
  
Uther watched as Anna and her men rode into the courtyard to be greeted by Uther, the knights, the Privy Council and Áedh.  
  
The moment Uther clapped eyes on her he took a deep breath and prepared himself for wrangle. He watched her approach with apprehension. Anna had always been attractive but Uther had known her best before she truly became a woman. She had more or less still been a girl when Igraine died and she left Camelot to marry Lot. It was sometimes hard to remember that troublesome girl and the proud woman sitting on a horse were the same person. They felt as if they should be different.  
  
Anna stopped and nodded to her brother-in-law from her stead.  
  
Uther surprised everyone when he stepped forward and offered his arms to help Anna down from her horse. She smiled and allowed him to help her, coming down with a loud flump and not with the grace one might have imagined of that elegant woman that had moments ago been propped straight-backed and tall on the horse.  
  
“Greetings Uther,” she finally said after a relieved breath. It had been a long journey but in her mechanical mind of ideas Anna knew it would be worth it just to see all her hard work pay off. She embraced Uther in a way that took him by surprise, “Fine – don’t be pleased to see me.”  
  
“Of course I’m pleased to see you,” Uther lied thought his smiling teeth.  
  
“I’m sure,” Anna said, looking him up and down before smiling cheekily. “You... haven’t aged well in the last – what was it – four years?”  
  
“You are too kind,” he said sarcastically. “I only wish I could say the same of you.”  
  
Anna made such a beautifully dazzlingly smile that even the old council members felt like swooning. She tilted her head and nodded, “At least your dull sense of wit hasn’t changed.”  
  
“I gave up trying to be witty around you, Anna,” Uther admittedly readily. “It is a battle I know I always lose.”  
  
“Hmm” Anna agreed, narrowing her eyes in a mock attempt at looking serious, “Thank God this upcoming war won’t be one of wits then. Your contribution to the war effort would be a meagre one. Arthur on the other hand—”  
  
The queen looked behind Uther and did not seem surprised to not spy her nephew in the crowd. However she humoured her brother-in-law by acting ignorantly. “Strange... where is my dear nephew? I hope he is not keeping himself from me.”  
  
“Not at all,” Uther said quickly, having prepared himself for Arthur’s absence. “He was called away on urgent business near the western border. It is a biscione according to Gaius. He should be back tomorrow, we hope.”  
  
Anna looked up thoughtfully. “Ah, _that’s_ what it was... I see. Dear old Gaius, I look forward to seeing him again. Well, that’s fair enough. I shall look forward to see my only nephew tomorrow, then.”  
  
“Indeed,” Uther replied. He looked among the men curiously before he finally mentioned something that he had noticed earlier. “Where... are Gawain and Elaine?”  
  
The queen looked up at Uther slyly before she turned around and walked slowly towards the carriage, which still remained closed. She spoke as she walked and Uther followed. “It’s funny that you should mention this biscione because there were also received reports of a beast when we landed at a port in Melwas’s kingdom – he was very attentive and charming – a day or so ago. Gawain asked to take a few men and seek out the creature. I knew you wouldn’t mind him being a day or so late so I agreed. I imagine he is there now.”  
  
Uther nodded, “Not at all—this beast was in _Melwas’s_ kingdom?”  
  
“Erm I can’t remember,” Anna said distractedly, an indication that she had lost interest in pursuing the subject. “Gawain was the one who heard the report... why? Do you think there might be a swarm of these bisciones?”  
  
“Well, no, not necessarily...” Uther spluttered.  
  
“Because if there is thank God we made it here unharmed,” Anna said dramatically, cutting off Uther’s weak attempt of reasoning. She had only been there five minutes and she was already running circles around him. “I dread to think what might have happened if we had encountered one of these creatures _and_ without Gawain to defend us...”  
  
Uther sighed, “Yes...indeed.”  
  
Anna smiled, pleased to have frustrated Uther already. It pleased her all the most that she had manage to do it so quickly. She looked up at the carriage door and knocked on it gently. “Come now, Elaine,” she called cheerfully, “are you going to sit in there all day?”  
  
Uther snapped his head so quickly when he looked to the door that his neck cranked painfully. He was left clutching it as the door immediately swung open and there sat the long awaited Elaine. Everyone leant forwards to see her as she stepped out of the carriage and stood before the king and queen.  
  
“I was awaiting your summons, mother,” the girl said sarcastically.  
  
There was no denying it – Elaine was beautiful. She was superior in looks to any female courtier Camelot could have thrown up to compare to her including Morgana. While other women, even the really beautiful ones, had _some_ imperfections in their appearance Elaine’s looks were almost too perfect to believe. There were some who looked at her and double took, not quite believing that someone could be _that_ beautiful.  
  
Yet it was a designed beauty, much like all beauty among the nobility. Anna had once surprised the people of Camelot herself when she first visited the kingdom after becoming Lot’s queen. They remembered a pretty yet unremarkable girl but she returned a gorgeous and glamorous consort to a king. Although Anna had never valued beauty she felt that queens and princesses should look superior – regardless of whom they were – and had gained a reputation for being something of a ‘queenmaker’.  
  
Still, even with all the artificial glamour taken away Elaine would probably still outside the likes of any noblewoman at court.  
  
Elaine’s eyes were large and indefinable in colour although, standing in the courtyard in harsh overcast, they appeared dark grey. She was as fair as Guinevere had been dark. She was dressed in a dark blue dress that suited her perfectly and her flaxen blonde tresses almost looked white in the harsh grey sky. Her appearance was pleasing although it was an unusual style to the one worn by the ladies of Camelot’s court. They would no doubt tease her but Elaine had an air that declared she didn’t care what anyone said. Yet it was an air that did not appear snobbish.  
  
All the knights and council members standing at the main entrance nearly fell forwards over each other trying to get a closer look. Even Uther felt a little dazzled when he saw his son’s bride-to-be.  
  
Elaine recognised her uncle immediately and curtsied. “Uncle,” she said simply, not knowing what else to say. In her wonderment she looked to her mother who shrugged in response. Elaine rolled her eyes and forced a smile, “It is good to see you so well.”  
  
“And you, my dear” Uther said graciously.  
  
He offered his hand to Elaine to lead her back to the castle which she took politely. He offered his other hand to Anna but she chuckled and said, “You don’t need to stroll around with two blondes on your arms to look good, do you?”  
  
“I’m just being courteous,” Uther said awkwardly.  
  
Anna took the hand and laughed, “Goodness Uther! You can never take a joke, can? You’d think as you reached middle age you’d have finally acquired a sense of humour.”  
  
Elaine didn’t know whether to chuckle or keep a straight face. She chose the latter; any smiles and it might give the wrong impression. The last thing she wanted Uther to think was that she was happy about the idea of marrying Arthur.  
  
The council members, knights and even Áedh fumbled at the sight of the beautiful princess and the remarkable Anna. They could all remember Anna back when she was Elaine’s age and while there was a lot of her in the girl she had never been quite as pretty as Elaine. Seeing her nonetheless brought back the nostalgia of the ‘good old days’.  
  
After greeting the rabble and leaving the knights to deal with the party from Eidin Uther led the ladies inside where they were greeted by other members of the court and Morgana. The ladies all turned their noses up at Elaine – much as they had done with poor Gwen – disgusted by her superior beauty and her peculiar clothes. When one commented on it Elaine retorted that it was the style in Eidin and all the best ladies wore them.  
  
“That is a _lovely_ shawl, by the way” she added cattily before Uther and Anna tugged her on to present her too Morgana.  
  
Morgana didn’t know what to make of Elaine even before she saw the woman. On the one hand here was a girl that she had played with during childhood, literally. Morgana had adored Elaine’s beautiful, glossy flaxen hair and had enjoyed plating it and styling it when they were younger. She would be a face this young woman would look to for support in this strange kingdom. It was so hard though to forget that but for _her_ Gwen would still be in Camelot!  
  
No—that was not Elaine’s fault, Morgana told herself. Elaine probably didn’t want to marry Arthur any more than he did her. She knew that.  
  
Yet the moment she saw Elaine she didn’t think of any of those things. It had been the surprise of seeing her face that stunned Morgana into spluttering out the following: “I have to say that while you haven’t changed much I still expected you to be... different.”  
  
The reason for Morgana’s choice of words was simple although Elaine could not know them. It was the girl, the girl in her dream. And it _wasn’t_ Elaine. It was a girl that looked like Elaine... but it wasn’t her.  
  
Morgana was the one to accompany Elaine to the chambers she would be staying in and probably remaining in too. Uther had gone elsewhere with Anna to greet other members of the court. The original plan had been for Elaine to be with them but Anna said that she was sure her daughter was tired and would prefer a lie down. That was a hint and Elaine was grateful for it.  
  
As they approached the chambers Merlin came out of the room almost as if he had sensed them coming. He could barely believe his eyes when he saw Elaine. It had occurred to him just as it had to Morgana that the girl in their dreams was not Elaine but he was more taken with her beauty and the familiar overwhelming instinct he felt when he saw people of his kind, people with magic. If Gaius’s secret potions hadn’t convinced him that Anna and Elaine had magic, he felt it now.  
  
He only wished that he could have kept his feelings (or instincts) hidden because he very clumsily came forward to greet the two ladies and smiled gracelessly. His gawky behaviour did not go unnoticed by Morgana who suddenly felt a great tinge of bitterness towards both of them.  
  
Morgana’s bitterness was amplified all the more when she saw Elaine’s expression. It seemed that, at first, the appearance of Merlin hadn’t quite dawned on her. Then when he introduced herself she took a moment looking at him, admiring his face before her eyes widened. She quickly recovered her composure and smiled.  
  
“Good afternoon, your highness” Merlin bowed.  
  
“Thank you; and good afternoon to you too,” she replied curiously. He lifted his head and she spoke again, “What is your name?”  
  
“Merlin,” he replied with a smile, before he saw Morgana’s face and withdrew the smile. Gwen was exiled, remember, he thought. He cleared his throat, “I mean... My name is Merlin, _my lady_.”  
  
Elaine smiled knowingly, “Of course! My brother mentioned you from last time he was here.”  
  
Merlin’s eyes lit up, “Really?”  
  
“He said you were of great help after he was injured in that joust,” she explained.  
  
Merlin had almost forgotten that day when Gawain had nearly died from a fall and he had used his magic to heal him despite the risk of being caught. He had been caught but Gawain’s good nature and understanding had protected Merlin once again from discovery. He had confessed that his sister had a touch of the gift too... and now he was confronted with her Merlin could _feel_ that it was true.  
  
“Yeah, well, he took a nasty fall and we were all helping him,” Merlin garbled out.  
  
Morgana’s nose twitched before she turned to Elaine and smiled. “Is the room to your satisfaction?”  
  
Elaine wandered around the chambers solemnly. She tested the bed, walked through a wicker door to see the dining area and the door where the room conjoined with her mother’s room. Eventually she sighed and forced a grateful smile, “It’s very nice, thank you. It is certainly the nicest chambers I have had since leaving mad uncle Ceretic’s kingdom before the voyage here to Dumnonia.”  
  
“How was the sea voyage?” Morgana asked generally.  
  
“Horrible,” Elaine said simply, grabbing a stand of her glossy curls and twisting it around her finger. “I couldn’t wait to get back on dry land again. Passage through the sea is not an enjoyable thing for me. At one point the wind blew us close towards Hibernia; everyone one was on guard. We were so close to the land at one point that I could actually see Brittas. Then the wind settled and blew us safely back towards Albion...”  
  
Merlin and Morgana stared at her. After a moment she came out of her daze and smiled gratefully to both of them. “Thank you Morgana for showing me the way here,” she said softly. “And thank you Merlin for organising this room for my family and I.”  
  
The young warlock smiled, “You’re welcome.”  
  
Elaine nodded, “If you’ll excuse me I would be grateful of a lie down...”  
  
“Of course,” the pair said in chorus. “If you need anything, just ask for me,” Merlin added politely, causing Morgana click her jaw in annoyance, especially when Elaine said she’d be ‘sure to do that’.  
  
Outside the room Merlin closed the door and immediately Morgana said coolly, “Come to my chambers, _now_.” It was a request that he was startled to get as she had said it so harshly. He knew he probably shouldn’t be visiting her after yesterday’s argument and assumed that she was still angry about that. Either that or she was annoyed that he had left that sleeping draught with Cecilia last night in case Morgana had decided to relent and take the potion.  
  
He glanced at her carefully as she strode furiously along; she didn’t look as tired but in her bad temper it was difficult to tell if she had had any sleep or the dream. Again, he wanted to ask but was too worried to dare in case she snarled at him again.  
  
As they approached the staircase that led to her chambers Merlin finally said something. “I wonder who the girl in our dream is then. I mean, since it can’t be Elaine... do you think?”  
  
“Hmm” Morgana only said in response.  
  
Once they were inside the room Merlin finally found out why Morgana was being so short with him today. The moment she slammed the door shut she turned on him like a dog on a chicken. “What on earth was that all about just then with Elaine?”  
  
“Exactly what I said, she obviously isn’t the girl in the dream...”  
  
“No,” she snapped harshly, shutting him up immediately. “I meant the way you were all smiles and sunshine chatting away with her as if you were old friends, _staring_ at her...”  
  
“I’d hardly call offering to help if she needs anything ‘talking like old friends’,” Merlin replied defensively. “Besides, she’s not a bad person. She was polite to me when most nobility treat me like dirt under their shoes. I like serving people who are _nice_ to me.”  
  
“And what about the fact you were drooling all over her?” Morgana retorted.  
  
Merlin blushed, “I wasn’t drooling all over her. I admit she’s pretty but—”  
  
The lady turned around briefly to vent her anger silently before turning back to him and saying, “And what about your loyalty to Gwen?”  
  
“What about yours?” Merlin countered. “ _You_ can afford to be snobbish and mean to a member of the nobility on account of loyalty to a friend. I can’t—I get ratted out by obscure nobility, nice or not, to people like Uther and then I’m punished. You want to be cruel to Elaine senselessly then be my guest... but I didn’t see any coldness in your demure.”  
  
Morgana looked to the side, “Elaine is an old friend so I couldn’t just...”  
  
“And I don’t even know the woman!” Merlin added. He sighed and shook his head, “Being nasty to her for no reason is pointless. Gwen would be ashamed if we even considered it on her account.” He glanced over at Morgana again, “I haven’t given up on Gwen but I don’t see how being mean to Elaine will solve anything.”  
  
Morgana bit her lip, “You didn’t need to be so, so...so...”  
  
“What, so what?” Merlin said in frustration.  
  
“ _Keen_ on her,” Morgana finished  
  
She turned away, apparently in anger although it was really to hide a blush. It was very obvious now what was _really_ bothering Morgana about the way he had been so nice to Elaine. Merlin didn’t know what to say about it.  
  
“And you don’t need to make up rubbish about her being nice,” she added quickly, hoping to regain so dignity. “I saw the way you looked at her. It was like, like how you looked at me sometimes, when you felt that connection with me...”  
  
Merlin took a deep breath. “Morgana...”  
  
“Not that you need magic to ‘feel a connection’,” she scoffed. “The way Cecilia was all over you, _backstabbing_ me and you just encouraged her just like all those other gullible servant girls. You just love being centre of attention, don’t you?”  
  
“That’s rich coming from someone who flirts with anything that moves!” Merlin snarled back.  
  
That hit a nerve. She slapped him hard across the face. Then she hit him in the right shoulder, the left shoulder, the chest, and so on... over and over. Merlin stumbled slightly but he did not shift or crumble in pain. Her blows hurt but Arthur had beaten him so much more harshly that he could take it. She continued in this vain until the blows came weaker and slower until all that she could manage was to bump her clenched fists against his heart. Then she stopped.  
  
Merlin brought his hands up to hold her wrists. They stood silently for a moment of contemplation, the power raging between them and their passion making it all the more intense. The breaths were harsh and quick, they swallowed nervously. It was the only thing they could do to avoid doing the unthinkable sins they wanted to.  
  
“I’m sorry I said that,” Merlin said quietly.  
  
“I’m sorry I said... all that rubbish,” Morgana said apologetically. “I’m just... so _tired_.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
“I don’t mean _physically_ tired, although I am,” she explained confusingly. “I mean tired of... lying about how I feel about...” She stopped. Morgana said nothing for a long while. She just stood with her wrists in his hands and her forehead resting against his chin. She then took a painful, laboured breath and looked up to him, her eyes wild. “I _can’t_ take this anymore, Merlin! I can’t pretend...”  
  
“I know,” he said, still sounding calm.  
  
“Is that all you can say?”  
  
He freed her from his grasp. “What else can I say? I know how you feel because I feel it too or have you forgotten that? I know _exactly_ how you’re feeling. I can sense it, _taste it_... just as clearly as you do. But this _cannot be_ , Morgana. We just have to live with it.”  
  
She stared blankly at him. “Why?”  
  
“You know why!” Merlin said, his voice now starting to pick up again. “If Uther found out he’d kill us! If he found out how we came too—I mean, if he knew we practised... _he’d kill us twice_!”  
  
“It didn’t stop Arthur and Gwen.”  
  
“And look what happened to them,” Merlin said firmly, making his point. He looked down trying to hide how saddened he felt by this fact but it had to be said even though both of them already knew it. “If you and I ever became... and we were caught then Uther wouldn’t show any mercy. He would just kill me whether he knew I used magic or not.”  
  
Morgana bit her lip. “I know.”  
  
“Nothing can ever happen between us,” Merlin said heaving a sigh that merged into an ironic laugh. “We probably shouldn’t even be friends. I already risk my life enough... please don’t ask me to risk it anymore than I have to.” He forced himself to look at her but she was completely silent. He said his next words with greater reluctance and pain than he thought he would should the day have come when he had to say these words.  
  
But he still managed to say them. “I think... things would be best if we kept our distance for a while.”  
  
Morgana looked at him, hurt.  
  
“We shouldn’t...” he added with even more reluctance, “I don’t think we should talk to each other for a while. Maybe if we do that then this... feeling will go away.”  
  
There was a long pause when they both stood there and said nothing. After a while they managed to look each other in the eye. They had never really spoken about their feelings before now. It had been that tabooed ‘thing’ between them that was never mentioned. Yet now they were confronted with it (and the prospect of living without it) it hurt more than silence had.  
  
Morgana swallowed dryly. “It won’t go away, Merlin, any more than the likelihood of Arthur forgetting Gwen, or she forgetting him. _It will always be there_.”  
  
“Maybe,” Merlin admittedly coolly, “but we have to try and stop this now else... well, else I think we’re damned.”  
  
And on those words he turned to leave her. He then stopped suddenly. He didn’t want to leave her on such a grim note although there was little he could say to offer comfort. Instead he opened the door and turned back to look at her. “Please start taking the sleeping draughts again,” he asked softly. “You’ll make yourself ill if you don’t get some sleep soon.”  
  
Then he finally left.  
  
As he walked back towards home Merlin forced himself to push his feelings to one side. His feelings for Morgana had to be put away where no one could see them and he wouldn’t think about them. He had more important things to do. He had to figure out the dream – his dream – and he needed to find Gwen. He couldn’t do that while worrying about Morgana. Now he had no excuse not to.  
  
The trouble is he didn’t know where to start on his own. He couldn’t talk to Morgana and he didn’t want to talk to Gaius. Not about the dreams or finding Gwen; he no longer trusted him about either. Even if he did Merlin doubted he would be any real help.  
  
“I have no choice,” he finally declared to Gaius once he got home. “I’ll have to ask the dragon about the dreams.”  
  
“I thought you’d sworn never to speak to him again,” Gaius said, well knowing Merlin’s turbulent relationship with the giant lizard below the castle. “It must be important for you to invoke his advice.”  
  
“It is desperation,” Merlin admitted with a helpless groan. “He’s the only one left I could possibly ask about this...”  
  
It did hurt Gaius that Merlin no longer felt he could speak to him about the problems that were bothering him, especially in regards to the dreams and Morgana. It was like they had lost something. Not that Gaius could blame him, nay, he felt he deserved it. He should have fought for Gwen and he didn’t. Yet Gaius was glad that Merlin would speak to the dragon; maybe then Merlin would finally hear and understand just why Gaius had wanted to keep him away from Morgana...  
  
The dragon was certain to tell him no matter how cryptically he does it.


	3. Chapter 3

The knights of Camelot reached the western village early that morning. The fact they had left Camelot in the afternoon rather than waiting until dawn that day they had been forced to stop and camp overnight a few miles outside the village.  
  
Arthur had kept himself aloof all day and night, turning in early and listening to the conversation of his knights before he finally drifted off to sleep. He usually kept himself aloof from the knights but this was the first time he had really noticed just how detached he was from them. It wasn’t that they spoke of loved ones and it painfully reminded him of Gwen as he continuously thought of her and felt constant pain whether they spoke of loved ones or not. It was the absence of Merlin, wittering on the entire time about... _rubbish_ , that made Arthur realise just how disconnected he had become from the upper classes and how – though it shocked him to admit it – that his best friend was a servant.  
  
He woke early and prepared himself to go just as the other knights had managed to drag themselves from their slumber. Still he did nothing but tell them to get ready so they could continue onwards towards the village near the western border.  
  
After they rode over a few hills they stopped at the peak and looked down into the valley where the little village rested. Arthur had rarely taken much time to admire the terrain of his kingdom beyond the walls of Camelot but even in a distracted and pained state he still felt a rush of feeling every time he did manage to step back and take a look. From the top of the hills they could across the kingdom from every direction. In the north lay thick woodland that led to the holy grounds of Tor and its nearest neighbour, Melwas’s kingdom. In the east lay the faint blue outside of mountains that denoted the far border beyond which lay the minor kingdoms. In the south there was more forest that stretched almost as far as the sea.  
  
Arthur looked directly ahead of him.  
  
Beyond the small village situated another terrain of forestry but it was only small as, merely ten miles or so beyond it, lay the Tamar and the border to Cornwall.  
  
He turned to William. “Where does the creature usually attack?”  
  
The terrified local pointed shakily towards the fields of corn – their precious grain supplies – and gulped in terror. “It waits in the crop fields for villagers to go by and then strikes with lighting speed,” he explained shakily. “It swallows grown-men head-first _whole_!”  
  
“Do you have any idea where it originally came from?” Kay asked.  
  
“A several weeks back some of the villagers went on a pilgrimage to Tor in honour of blessed Michael,” William explained. “The pilgrimage from Melwas’s kingdom spoke of a terrifying creature. Two weeks later the creature turns up here in the village. Michael (not the aforementioned saint but the grain farmer) claims the creature came from the northern forests.”  
  
“How fast would you say this creature is?” Arthur asked, his eyes wandering between the location of the creature and the eastern border, “Apart from ‘lightening speed’?”  
  
“Very, _very_ fast, my lord” William spluttered out. “A man is usually half swallowed seconds after hearing the first rustle among the grain.”  
  
The guards looked at each other nervously while Leon, Geraint and Kay stared at Arthur waiting for a – hopefully – decent plan that would prevent them being eaten also. After a moment’s contemplation Arthur realised that everyone was looking to him.  
  
“We will have to lure it out of fields onto flat open terrain and surround it with spears,” he told them before turning back to William, “I assume someone in your village will be able to advise us on an ideal patch of land?”  
  
“Y-yes, sire...”  
  
Arthur turned back to address his knights. “Let us go down to the village now, then.”  
  
The group obeyed and they swiftly rode their horses down the slope towards the tiny village. The return of William with the knights of Camelot and Prince Arthur himself brought people out from the houses to gawp at him. There were some people that had never left the village and therefore never seen the prince before.  
  
Arthur and the knights dismounted their horses while the guards ushered the people a safe distance from the fields by leading them to the hills before returning to receive orders. William and the field farmer Michael found the flat plain of land that Arthur needed which they judged to be suitable and directed it to the prince.  
  
“It’s difficult to find flat land around here because the grounds are so hilly,” the farmer Michael explained as he showed him the grounds. “I’d say this is the best spot—it’s a fair distance from the field and it’s fairly close to the western border river.”  
  
Arthur nodded. “This will have to do—hopefully this grass snake won’t turn out to be a water snake also if it tries to flee. The relationship between our kingdom and Cador’s is weak enough without inflicting a man-eating snake on his people.”  
  
Michael and William laughed nervously.  
  
“I don’t suppose anything else has happened here on the western border over the last few weeks,” the prince said distantly, apparently testing the ground with his boot although in reality he wished to distract the two farmers’ eyes from his face. “No other creature sightings or action near the western border—or the northern border for that matter.”  
  
The two men shrugged. “Most of us went on the pilgrimage to Tor and we saw nothing there,” Michael confessed. “I was one of the few that remained here but I don’t remember anything out of the ordinary...” William added.  
  
Arthur sighed; it had been a long shot. He clutched the place where at his belt he had concealed the silver angel. Then he sighed again. Even if Guinevere had been taken via this route he doubted anyone here in the village would have noticed. There were heavy patrols of Camelot’s outer line guards just ten miles either way up the river guarding the border from any (unlikely) attack from Cornwall. The sight of another group of guards wouldn’t have appeared out of the ordinary.  
  
A thought occurred to the prince. “The guards protecting the border aren’t far from here, why did you come all the way to Camelot? Why didn’t you ask them for help?”  
  
“We tried,” William told him, and looked down hesitantly. “They told us that under the king’s orders they are forbidden from leaving their posts and told us to appeal directly to Camelot for assistance.”  
  
That made Arthur angrier at his father than he had been before he left. The amount of guards – some better trained than the ones Arthur had brought from the city – that Uther ordered to have stationed at the Tamar was beyond ridiculous. But Uther insisted that Camelot’s territory had to be defended from any kingdom they hold no standing alliance with and his paranoia stopped him from thinking otherwise.  
  
“I apologise that they did not help you,” Arthur told the two men. “I will appeal to my father to ensure that... it won’t happen again.”  
  
They both smiled gawkily. “Thank you, sire,” said William.  
  
Arthur took a deep breath and looked over towards the woodlands between them and the Tamar. “And,” he picked up his question from before, “you have seen nothing... different? It doesn’t have to be strange just irregular. No extra guards, no foreign guards... nothing?”  
  
The two men looked at each other. “W- _ell_ ,” William said slowly, taking a moment to think and falsely give hope that he may have remembered something. “No, not really,” he finished.  
  
Arthur sighed. “Very well...”  
  
“Is this significant to the attack of the snake-monster?” Michael asked.  
  
“No,” the prince confessed, looking over at the fields where the creature lay. He managed to give them a reassuring smile, “No, it is nothing you should concern yourself about.”  
  
The two men felt a little helpless and wished there was something they could tell him. “There was the changing of the guard,” William suddenly said. “But that happens every year around this time. I-I mean usually they stop in the village over night before going the ten miles back to the border b-but this time they didn’t. I suppose it was because of the pilgrimage...”  
  
Arthur didn’t take in anything that William was saying through his own aching disappointment. He knew the poor man was trying to please him. “I suppose so,” the prince said absently before patting William on the shoulder, “You and Michael should go to the hill with the others.”  
  
William nodded. “Yes, sire.”  
  
The two men made their way to the hills passing the guards as they did. Meanwhile Arthur returned to the knights as the guards gathered and listened to his plan as he drew it out in the dust on the ground with a stick.  
  
“According to Gaius,” Arthur began, pushing his sadness to one side, “a biscione not only has a taste for human flesh but it also has a poisonous bite. The venom is not fatal but as soon as it enters your bloodstream it paralyses you within seconds.”  
  
“So if you narrowly escape the jaws of being swallowed whole...” Kay began.  
  
“Chances are you won’t get very far,” Leon finished.  
  
“How long is it before the effects of the poison wear off?” Geraint asked.  
  
“A few hours but by that time the biscione will probably have eaten you,” Arthur told him. He cleared his throat. “It’s a pity I didn’t bring Lamorak,” he muttered stiffly, not looking up from his diagram in the dust. “We could have used him as bait.”  
  
There was some nervous chuckling from the guards who were now worried that they would be the bait the prince would use. Then Kay asked the question they all dreaded; “How do we lure the snake from the fields?”  
  
“William said it eats sheep as well as people...” Geraint suggested.  
  
“I think these villagers have lost enough live stock,” Leon told him. “Unless it was already chopped up and called mutton.”  
  
“That won’t work either,” said Arthur, “Gaius said that a biscione will only eat _live_ prey.”  
  
“Then what can we do?” Kay asked again.  
  
“The creature has very poor eyesight,” Arthur explained, remembering Gaius’s recital from his book of dreaded creatures. “Yet it has acute hearing and it detects its prey by listening to is approach. That is probably why it only attacks when people walked near the field—it hears their footsteps and strikes once the people are close enough. Generally the more vibrations the sound makes the more likely the biscione will be to follow it.”  
  
He picked up his shield and unsheathed his sword.  
  
“A group of us will hit the blades of our swords to our shields,” he told them. Some of the guards looked ready to perform an obvious example to the group but Arthur stopped them. “Not yet. We have to beat our shields at a slow and steady place else we might frighten it. The sound should grab its attention.”  
  
Arthur then turned back to his freshly drawn plan in the earth.  
  
“Once we lure it out we need to surround it,” he said, picking up the stick to show the men what their movements would be. “Each of you (Referring to the knights) and I shall lead a group of men with spears,” and he pointed to the head guard who was already handing them out to his men, “eventually creating a circle around the creature. We need to move quickly else the creature will just attack. Remember the faster you are the more likely you are to be eaten.”  
  
“I’ll bear that in mind,” Kay said gruffly, thinking of Gladys and the boys as he did.  
  
“When we surround the creature we threaten it with the spears but _do not_ attack it,” Arthur said with a tone of severity. If you do that would probably get you eaten too, it said. “We have to circle it very slowly. If we surround it and threaten it all as one it’ll be less likely to single out one of us for attack. When the moment is right I shall make the move to destroy it.”  
  
“How?” asked Kay.  
  
“Gaius said to remove its head,” the prince told his associate. “But I don’t want any heroics from you; none of the three of you move to attack the creature unless I am down, understand?”  
  
Kay, Leon and Geraint all nodded softly as the head guard came forward to inform Arthur that all the guards had a spear. He straightened up and looked around. “Does anyone have any questions?” but no one said anything. Arthur nodded slowly and picked up his own spear, “Right, let’s go. Remember— _slow_ movements. No one begin the beating until I give the signal.”  
  
Arthur could smell the fear coming off every man that stood there in that field as they made their way over to the flat ground William and Michael had found for them. He was certain the biscione would smell it too and, hopefully, would lure it out all the faster. He was almost shamed to be thinking that way. Each of these men had families, wives and children to return to. Kay had Lady Bedivere, Leon had Nora and (Gwen had told Arthur a month back or so) that Geraint _might_ have Lady Enid...  
  
The guards all lined up behind Arthur, Kay, Leon and Geraint. Everyone held their breaths. Then for a moment there was silence; nothing but the sound of the autumn breeze brushing through the trees and the faint bleating of the sheep dotted about the hills. They were all waiting for Arthur’s signal.  
  
Arthur did not begrudge those fears of death, of never seeing their lovers again; at least they had a chance to say goodbye. Whether Arthur died now or not he would never have a chance to bid Gwen goodbye. Not now, and God— _that hurt_. Even at that moment.  
  
He took a breath and raised his arm, signalling them to hold their positions. Another heartbeat thudded in each of their chests. Finally Arthur dropped his arm and they began their slow chorus against their shields. The clanging carried all through the valley just as Arthur had hoped it would. He hoped that the sound – and smell – would beckon the creature forward. Some of the guards began to speed up with their rhythm. “Slow beats,” Arthur reminded them, “Keep in time with me.” The chorus eventually found an ‘equal voice’ and they continued for another minute.  
  
“Nothing is happening,” whispered Kay.  
  
Arthur had another idea. “Everyone move very slowly forward; one step behind me, understand?”  
  
He took a small step forward before he slowly took another one and stopped, the guards following suit. This continued for four steps when Arthur stopped dead. There was a distinct hissing sound. The beat began to falter again. “Keep the beat steady!” he ordered the men. He took one more step forward. They followed. There was the snap of the tall grass. Then there followed another hiss. Arthur didn’t move another inch—the creature was coming towards them, he could hear it.  
  
Then finally the head of the monster emerged slyly from the crop fields. It was not as large as the men had expected although, were it to raise its head, it would topple well above their heads. The biscione was more or less snake like but for the neck frills similar to those found on dragons. Otherwise it had the appearance of a common black adder.  
  
Arthur signalled for the knights to take their group of men to either side of the snake, while he and his men remained where they were and continued with the beating. Kay and his men went slowly to the right while Leon and Geraint led their men to the left in an attempt to draw a circle around the creature. The biscione dragged itself closer and closer towards Arthur. Once Kay and his men were behind the snake, he told his men to stop and spread out.  
  
“Remember,” he whispered, “ _do not_ attack it and keep close to each other.”  
  
They all slowly began to spread out, meeting with the other groups of men while slowly closing in on the biscione. It was focused mainly on Arthur at first as he was standing right in front of it but, as the circle drew closer and isolated the creature it became confused. Each man then held their spears at length and slowly circled the snake. It shrunk in slightly, moving its head from side to side and not quite understanding what was happening. The whole time Arthur didn’t take his eyes off it. If he could just get close enough to the body...  
  
At that moment one of the guards hesitated with his spear and ended up dropping it to the ground. Arthur had felt in his stomach something like that would happen; it usually did. The spear fell to the ground with a clutter. Arthur tried to keep the biscione’s attention on him but it was too later. Its head turned to look at the foolish guard. In its swiftness to turn the other guards and Leon’s group had to swiftly back away, breaking the circle.  
  
Arthur tried to call to the hapless guard and the other men to remain still and calm but the giant snake’s tail knocked him backwards. He landed on his back with a thud and clang on his armour. The knock had drawn his breath from him. There were the sounds of men screaming, the muffled cries and the cracking of bones as the snake glugged down the men. Arthur heard the panic going on around him but he barely had the presence of mind to do anything but stare at the grey sky.  
  
Then it appeared again—right above where Arthur lay.  
  
Its tongue spat out and tasted the air around him as its head came closer and closer to his face. Arthur stayed as still as possible; one swift movement and the viper might bite. It bore its fangs and hissed threateningly. He held his breath...  
  
Then there came a chorus of clanging to the left of them. The biscione looked towards the noise and hissed again before slithering off towards it slowly. Arthur remained still from fear of distracting the creature once again. The clanging came closer and closer. He heard a faint voice calling to the other men to regroup.  
  
Arthur finally dared to slowly lift his head up. Someone knelt beside him and placed a hand on his forearm. “Are you injured?” the man asked.  
  
_He knew that voice from anywhere!_  
  
To his surprise and delight he looked up at the face of the speaker; it was Gawain! Arthur almost forgot about the biscione, stumbled to his feet and shouted his name in surprise. But he didn’t. Instead he pulled himself up slightly and whispered, “I’m fine—what _the_ _hell_ are you doing here?”  
  
“I’ll explain later,” he said with a wink. “First I need to know whether you are injured or not.”  
  
Arthur slowly sat up. “I’m fine.”  
  
“Good,” Gawain said, taking hold of Arthur’s arm.  
  
With painfully slow movement Gawain helped Arthur to his feet. The reason was biscione; it was coming back. The two men kept their eyes firmly on the creature. Arthur did not notice the number of men had been reduced – either they were dead, paralysed or inside the snake – nor the mix of his men with Gawain’s men. Thankfully Kay, Geraint and Leon had managed to rally the uninjured men and reform the circle. They closed in slowly.  
  
The biscione lowered its head disturbingly before Arthur and Gawain.  
  
“It’s about to strike...” Arthur grunted in the lowest voice he could make.  
  
Gawain clutched Arthur’s discarded spear in his hand. “How quickly do you think you can take your sword to its neck?”  
  
The prince of Camelot glanced at the prince of Eidin, taking a moment realise what Gawain was planning. It unnerved Arthur but it his original plan anyway and his cousin’s presence would make it easier. As capable as Kay and Leon and Geraint were Arthur didn’t want to risk them doing what they were about to do. But Gawain was fast moving and the only person who came close to Arthur’s standards.  
  
Arthur felt the hilt of his sword in his hand and finally replied, “Quick enough.”  
  
Gawain smiled. “You know what to do then...”  
  
A few more seconds went by as the two men stood their ground against the crouching neck of the snake. Then it moved to strike with such swiftness that every heart stopped beating for a second. Two guards even had to hold Kay back from rushing over to aid Arthur. But they soon realised what was going on. The moment the serpent opened its mouth, bore its fangs and moved in for the kill Gawain, in the blink of an eye, had wedged the spear between the roof and bottom of the creature’s wide open mouth while Arthur jumped out of the way to the side of the now-grounded head.  
  
With all his strength Gawain tried to prevent the spear from snapping by holding it hard, bringing him dangerously close to the ‘stunning’ fangs. The situation was desperate. Arthur didn’t waste any time in finishing the job. He raised his sword high and with one sharp and painless stroke he removed the creature’s head.  
  
The head fell limp and Gawain was freed from his struggle, collapsing to the ground and completely drained. Arthur rushed to help him up before giving him a cousinly pat on the back. “Excellent, Gawain,” he said without knowing what else to say. “That was bloody brilliant...”  
  
“Yeah,” the cousin agreed, sniffing. “Thank God you were here...”  
  
“Thank God _you_ were here,” Arthur corrected him. “What the hell _are_ you doing here, Gawain?”  
  
Gawain smiled. “There were reports of a creature attacking villagers near this border all the way in Melwas’s kingdom. I knew this area so mother agreed to let me seek the creature out and destroy it—I assume Uther sent you to do the same.”  
  
“No,” Arthur said firmly, scratching his nose. “Actually _I_ decided to should come here and destroy it. ‘Uther’ wanted me to stay in Camelot.”  
  
Gawain nodded, “Yeah, mother and Elaine should have arrived today. Not keen to see them?”  
  
“I find it remarkable you went to find this creature,” Arthur remarked with a hint of suspicion in his voice, choosing to ignore his cousin’s earlier assertion.  
  
The younger man shrugged. “It was hard tracking it but it was worth it. I managed to deliver a few letters that mother wanted sent so all around it was a good way to waste a week.”  
  
Arthur raised an eyebrow. Before he could ask any more the knights limped over to them as the men of Camelot and Eidin greeted each other. Kay took Gawain hand and shook it, “Good to see you again, your highness.”  
  
“Good to see you again,” the young prince replied as he tried to remember all their names. “It’s Kay, isn’t it? Sir Ector’s son... and Geraint,” he said turning to the knight in question before pointing to Leon, “And... sorry I remember you from the joust but—oh! Leon, isn’t it?”  
  
Leon was flattered that the foreign prince had remembered him as his family were not as prominent as Kay or Geraint. “Yes, that’s it, sire.”  
  
“Excellent jouster,” Gawain recalled. “I should like to issue a challenge one day, if you are willing?”  
  
“I would be honoured, sire.”  
  
“Wonderful,” said the Orcadian prince as he turned to look at Kay again and noticed a wound on his arm. “Your wounds should be tended to.”  
  
“Indeed,” Kay said having not really noticed the gash on his arm. It hadn’t even been caused by the creature but in the men’s panic; one had jammed his spear right into Kay’s arm. “It’s nothing much, my lord.”  
  
“Glad to hear it,” Gawain said, before turning to look at everyone again. “It’s good to see you all again, but you must all be tired and the men too. Let us return to the village and assure the people that it is safe.”  
  
The knights and men dispatched as Arthur and Gawain walked side by side. The elder prince glanced at his young cousin out of the corner of his eye and waited for the right moment to question him about how and why he had come to this outer-line village as well as ask after Anna and Elaine... try and ascertain whether he had a chance of postponing the eventual marriage any longer than a few weeks or days. It wasn’t the marriage that Arthur dreaded the most; it was the signing of the treaty as once that happened he would be obliged by the guidelines to take Elaine as a wife ‘in the name of peace’.  
  
“Tell me the truth, Gawain,” Arthur began firmly. “Why did you not accompany your mother and sister to Camelot?”  
  
“I told you,” Gawain replied absently in a manner that could be likened well to the way Anna answered questions when she clearly had no intention of answering them... yet. “We need to see to your wounds too—you took quite a whacking.”  
  
Arthur didn’t press the issue; he knew Gawain would tell him when the time was right.  
  
-  
  
Meanwhile in Camelot Anna was also making it her intention to be as forward as she could about the issues _she_ wanted to discuss while awkwardly avoiding the issues Uther wanted to discuss. The issue she quite happily filled him in on was the war in Rheged, how it truly was a real war now and how her idiotic brother-in-law Urien was relying on her husband to win the war for him. Anna was a practical queen who ruled justly and fairly, leaving all the ‘unfair’ business of war and sacking to her less than witty husband. She had no issue in showing Uther the letters Lot had sent her about the war’s process and it was all meaningless to her.   
  
Another issue that Uther asked of and Anna happily replied were the domestic issues of Eidin and Orkney. He asked out of politeness because he knew how much Anna liked to compare her fairness and sufficiency to Uther’s ‘higgledy-piggledy cut-off-a-head there, burn-a-witch-here’ approach, as she called it. Not to his face but had heard _reports_ that she called it that. Either way Uther could not deny that Anna’s approach to ruling a country (Looking after the poor, old, sick and orphaned while taxing the landed gentry) had earned her overwhelming popularity... with the people.  
  
That said he didn’t feel Anna’s approach was all together _efficient_. But he would never dare say that.  
  
“And how are the other children?” Uther asked as he motioned a servant to bring them more wine. “The last time I saw Agravain was when he was... twelve? That’s the age the twins are now, isn’t it?”  
  
“The twins are ten now,” Anna corrected him with a smile. “Agravain is just sixteen, and then little Gareth is the baby at seven years.”  
  
“Of course,” Uther nodded, remembering the younger children fondly. He chuckled, “I remember you used to separate the children. Gawain, Agravain and Elaine were the ‘big trio’, and Gareth and the twins was the ‘little trio’.”  
  
“I still call them that,” Anna told him before adding with a knowing smile, “And the twins are called Clarissant and Norcadet—in case you forgot.”  
  
Uther laughed nervously. “O-of course I didn’t forget! I wouldn’t forget the names of my own nieces.”  
  
Well, he remembered Norcadet’s name but only because she shared it with a particular sorceress Uther would like to forget. He admittedly could never remember the name of the other twin. He’d only met them once as very small children and they had been so alike that he was too frightened to ever call them by name.  
  
He decided quickly to change the subject. “I expect Arthur will be back tomorrow,” he began in an attempt to spark Anna’s interest, “Perhaps Gawain will be here too?”  
  
“Hmm,” she said sipping her wine and swallowing, “Possibly.”  
  
“Once Arthur returns I will have him sign the treaty as soon as possible,” Uther said.  
  
He said it with such an air of determination that indicated such a promise would be difficult to uphold. Anna smiled, “If you say so—but we even had the final thing drafted yet, have we?”  
  
“If you would like we could discuss the final details now and have it drafted for when Arthur returns,” Uther suggested.  
  
Anna rolled her eyes and took another gulp of wine. “Goodness, Uther we only just arrived here. I have no desire to begin drafting a treaty _immediately_. One would think you wished to be rid of me.”  
  
“Of course not,” Uther said defensively. “It’s just I have _never_ known you to pass up getting work done straight away. I assumed this would be no exception.”  
  
Anna sighed. “Oh Uther, after the journey from Eidin to here I don’t want to see another piece of paper for at least... two or three days.”  
  
He tilted his head. “You seem very exact with that number.”  
  
She raised her brows, “I was just throwing out eyebrows. Why? Are you doing something important in two or three days? Can’t make the meeting?”  
  
Uther rolled his eyes. “Don’t be silly, Anna!”  
  
The dinner was brought in for the pair of them when Uther enquired as to whether The Lady Elaine had been taken her dinner also. The servant confirmed that Merlin was taking it to her. Once the servant left Uther began to wonder about Elaine’s absence.  
  
“I hope she is not unwell after the long trip,” Uther said as he helped himself to some cheese. “It would not do well for the poor girl to be ill for Arthur’s return.”  
  
“Elaine is in good health,” Anna assured him, placing a napkin upon her beautifully suited dark wine red dress. “She merely tired and misses home, that’s all. Her little sisters dote upon her as she does them and she is as much a second mother to Gareth as a sister.” She then paused and added, sadly, “As Igraine was to me.”  
  
Uther paused in a moment of solemn contemplation before he managed to smile and say, “Well, if Elaine does feel ill then send immediately for Gaius.”  
  
“Naturally,” Anna assured him. “But I fear Elaine shall have to cope with the affliction of missing one’s siblings alone, especially if she is to marry Arthur. God knows I had to when I married Lot—but then Igraine and Tristan were both gone by then.”  
  
Uther nodded. “Indeed.”  
  
Anna sighed before regaining a faint smile (much to Uther’ relief) and said, “I’ve been thinking a lot about the old days.”  
  
“That’s funny so have I,” Uther admitted.  
  
“Tell me,” Anna said, glancing at her former brother-in-law under her eyelashes, “have you spoken to Cador at all since ‘the old days’?”  
  
Uther stared at her but her eyes fell down to her supper again, which she ate carefully and regally. He cleared his throat, “Except do deal with... that issue we had to take care of. Otherwise, no.”  
  
“So the exile of the servant girls didn’t rekindle your love for one another?” Anna joked.  
  
“There was no love to rekindle,” Uther said stiffly. “I was always much closer to Gorlois than I was to Cador.”  
  
Anna just sniffed and said nothing further on the subject of Gorlois. She too had shared a good friendship with the dearly departed Duke. Yet she had always suspected some sort of foul play in regards to his death. She suspected it had something to do with his wayward wife (whom Anna had always liked too) and a sketchy history that Uther wanted to keep quiet. It all happened before Igraine and Anna came to live in Camelot. Anna would never ask Uther – she didn’t really want to know (and she knew he wouldn’t tell) – and, as much as she had liked Gorlois... and Cador, she would never query Uther about something that could land him in trouble. She liked to think she cared about Uther is a strange way... but it was really for Arthur’s sake. Anna had promised Igraine that if anything happened to her she would protect her then unborn nephew. Igraine had said it with such impending doom it still gave her the chills. Anna had been Elaine’s age when Igraine died.  
  
“Maybe you never tried hard enough,” Anna suggested, returning the subject to Cador. “He is the Duke of Cornwall; controls more land than you do (even if he’s not a king) and he has _a lot_ of armies and gold at his disposal.”  
  
“Cador never tried, and neither will I” Uther said firmly. “Nonetheless I am grateful for his help in our situation with... the servant girl.”  
  
“Gwen,” Anna said remembering the name well. “Short for ‘Gwenhwyfar’, isn’t it?”  
  
Uther nodded, “I believe so.”  
  
“Same as my mother,” Anna remarked simply.  
  
“I assume that’s where her parents got the name from,” Uther said, trying to act uninterested.  
  
“Indeed,” Anna agreed. She cleared her throat and dabbed her lips with a napkin, “So are you ever going to make any form of communication with Cador again?”  
  
Uther swallowed a piece of meat thickly before replying. He had no idea why Anna wished to pursue this line of conversation. It was all very well suggestion he ask Cador for assistance last year when Lot first began to have his doubts about Claudius as a future husband for Elaine but making an alliance with Cador now would be very risky. After all—he had Guinevere.  
  
“I have no reason to make an alliance,” Uther said bluntly, and it ended on that.  
  
-  
  
Merlin walked towards the chambers where Elaine was staying with Gregory who was taking Percival his supper. Gregory knew that his master would be there alone as his mother and brother had gone to dine with another noble family. He had had insisted they both still go despite him being unable to go himself but later confessed to Gregory that he felt lonely there on his own.  
  
“I feel bad for him because I’m supposed to be helping my mother tonight too,” Gregory admitted.  
  
“Is she still sick?” Merlin asked.  
  
Gregory nodded, “Gaius gave her some medicine but it’s not done much good yet. I mean she’s a little better but—”  
  
Merlin sighed. He would normally – because he was _such_ a soft touch – offer to do some of Gregory’s work that evening but Merlin needed to see the dragon tonight. It had to be tonight, he decided for some reason.  
  
As they reached the doors, one leading to the apartments belonging to Percival’s family and the other the one where Elaine was staying, Percival limped to the door to greet the pair. Gregory quickly left the dinner tray and went out the backdoor before the guilt of leaving his master alone became too much. But Percival’s loneliness was evident to Merlin straight away as he became distracted by a conversation about how Arthur was coping and that Percival was surprised by his choice to leave Merlin behind. Merlin confessed that it surprised him too and that he was worried about Arthur.  
  
“You are a good man,” Percival told him.  
  
Then the door of the chambers behind Merlin opened and, lo and behold, Elaine poked her head about having been distracted by the noise of their conversation and her longing for food.  
  
“Your highness,” Merlin said sheepishly, his cheeks flushing as he had completely forgotten he was still holding Elaine’s dinner tray. “I am _so_ sorry I didn’t bring this in sooner only I—”  
  
Then Percival stepped in. “It was my fault entirely, my lady. I was asking Merlin about his master and would not let him go.”  
  
Elaine looked between them and smiled. “That’s perfectly fine... I was just hungry that’s all.” She awkwardly took the tray from Merlin and turned again to Percival. “Do I have the honour of addressing Percival, son of King Pellinore? It has been a long time...”  
  
Percival inclined his head, “I am indeed that Percival though whether it should be considered an honour to be the son of King Pellinore is debatable.”  
  
Elaine smiled, “Our fathers have been at odds in the past.”  
  
“Indeed,” Percival agreed.  
  
“But that is no barrier between us now,” she assured him. “Not when the whole of Albion is on the verge of war.”  
  
“Thank you, although my distain toward my father comes from loyalty to a wounded mother more than his antagonists,” Percival admitted with a faint smile. “A son must always remain loyal to his mother.”  
  
“As too much as daughter,” she sighed strongly. She then glanced behind him into his chambers, noticing no other movement in the room. “Are you alone this evening?” Percival confessed that he was and explained why. “I am alone too... perhaps we could eat together and catch up on old times?”  
  
Percival was so surprised he even looked to Merlin, still standing and waiting for Elaine to dismiss him, and then back at her. “I would like that... but wouldn’t it be improper given that you are engaged to Arthur?”  
  
“I assure you my intentions towards you are _completely_ plutonic and honourable,” Elaine joked. “Besides I'm not engaged to Arthur yet and if _he_ can fall madly in love with a handmaiden I don’t see why I can’t eat with a knight of Camelot and old friend.”  
  
Merlin and Percival stared at Elaine in surprise.  
  
She laughed again, “What? You think I didn’t know? Of course I know, and once more I don’t care. I’m not going to lie—I’m banking that fact will keep Arthur off my back before and after we are married. If we get married, that is...”  
  
Her choice of words were off but neither man thought much of it. After that Percival agreed as he was glad of the company and Elaine gave Merlin the leave he was so obviously craving. He was tempted to think more about Elaine and Percival’s conversation but he had more important things to think about; he was going to see the dragon— _now_.  
  
But he was dreading it. He hated having to see the dragon especially after the way he had left things all those months ago after the incident with Nimueh and his mother. He had sworn never to see the dragon again and yet here he was slinking back down into the caves to ask the old lizard about the dreams out of sheer desperation. He dreaded the creation’s reaction to seeing him as he walked down the steps into the opening where the cave under the castle was. As far as he knew the dragon had not seen anyone since Merlin left. After all he didn’t (officially) know that Gaius had been going to see him (although he had wondered).  
  
As he came out into the cavern Merlin sought the creature out by shining his torch about the darkness. Eventually he decided to call, “Hello? It’s me... I need to ask you something—”  
  
The loud beating of wings filled the air with a startling roar from the dragon’s breath. Merlin stumbled backwards as the dragon perched on the cliff just opposite him, his eyes filled with annoyance and fury. “ _You said I would_ never _see you again_!” he growled with ferocity.  
  
“I-I know” Merlin spluttered.  
  
“Yet you _dare_ to come back here and ask my help?” the dragon wrangled on.  
  
“If I had another option I would take it!” Merlin snapped back.  
  
“In that case I refuse to help you,” the dragon snarled, flexing his wings as if to fly away but instead he folded them and settled down upon the cliff. “Why should I help someone who never promises anything in return?”  
  
Merlin stood up straight. “I need to know about the ‘future scream’ or collective echo or whatever you want to call it...”  
  
“You mean _‘r ddyfodol gwawchia_?” the dragon asked.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
“And why should I help you?” the dragon said stiffly.  
  
Merlin glared at him, “Because... if what Gaius says is true then _you_ have probably been having the dream too.”  
  
The dragon lowered his eyes. “The images the dreams show me are no less terrifying than the butchery Uther inflicted upon your people and my kind. I can live with them...”  
  
“But Morgana and I can’t!” Merlin stressed in desperation. “I’ve tried everything but it’s no good. Please! I need to know what it’s trying to tell me so I can stop it...”  
  
The dragon sighed. “Very well, I will help you...”  
  
“Thank you!” Merlin sighed in relief.  
  
“But...”  
  
“But,” he then said with a tight heart, “But what?”  
  
“I will only continue to help you if _you_ make a _promise_ ,” the dragon told him.  
  
“A promise...”  
  
“That one day you will set me free!” he finished firmly and awaited Merlin’s response. The boy scoffed and looked away. The dragon then added, “You will never sleep easy again without my assistance, and if you don’t neither will the Lady Morgana.”  
  
That touched a nerve.  
  
Merlin swallowed, “If I _did_ set you free _one day_ , what would you do?”  
  
“That is my business,” the dragon said bluntly. “My help comes at a price—it was foolish of me not to propose it when we first met.”  
  
“Instead you lied, manipulated me into sacrificing my mother...” Merlin ranted.  
  
“I never lie!” the dragon said defensively. “I never lied before and I am not lying now.”  
  
“How do _I_ know you aren’t lying _now_?”  
  
“You don’t,” the dragon admitted, fidgeting in his place to get comfortable as he realised his debate with Merlin could go on for a while yet. “But I promise you that I never lie because I never have had the need to. If I don’t want you to know something I simply won’t tell you and as frustrating as knowing that may be it is the absolute truth. Now—” the dragon leant in further than he ever had done to Merlin’s face, “do I have your promise or not?”  
  
Merlin took a deep breath and nodded reluctantly. “You have my word that I will set you free—but _I_ will decide when.”  
  
The dragon was tempted to refuse when he added that but he decided not to. He didn’t dislike Merlin and thought it was better to grab the chance of promised freedom than to risk losing it. Merlin was stubborn enough to refuse to help him if he tried to get more out of him.  
  
He sighed and nodded, “Very well. What do you want to know?”  
  
“First, what exactly is the future scream?” Merlin asked.  
  
“It is the only time when creatures of the old religion and those blessed with its gift are truly reunited,” the dragon told him, “It usually as a great omen prophesising change.”  
  
“Change for the bad?”  
  
“It can be bad or good,” the dragon explained. “Anyone who has the gift whether they are a seer or not may have the dream especially if they are directly involved in the change the dream is telling or warning you of.”  
  
“Then what is it trying to tell me.”  
  
The dragon chuckled with amusement, which clearly annoyed Merlin, but he still did it. “Why—it is such a simple little thing you’ll wonder why you never guessed it.”  
  
“Just tell me!”  
  
He continued to laugh another instant before he finally gave an answer. “The dream is showing you the war that is about to happen, The Great War of Albion. Yet the dream is telling you to reunite Arthur with his lost love before the war begins for their reunion will be crucial to the outcome.”  
  
Merlin brightened up in curiosity, “How?”  
  
“Merlin,” the dragon said, his tone becoming more serious. “You must understand the significance of this war. It will last many years yet and those kings that created it will not live to see it end. This is the war in which you shall begin to fulfil your ultimate destiny—to aid the young Pendragon in uniting the island of Albion.”  
  
The young warlock took a deep, impressed breath. “Wow.”  
  
“Indeed” the dragon repeated. “I promise you that once your part in the collective eco that is ‘the future scream’ you shall not be haunted any longer. Neither, I should add, will the Orcadian princess.”  
  
Merlin nodded. “So it is true, then? She has magic.”  
  
“It’s not so much magic as it is... a sixth sense,” the dragon replied.  
  
“It’s the same thing, isn’t it?”  
  
“Not to everyone,” the dragon replied. “It is more subtle than magic and that is why Uther never suspected the Orcadian queen. She herself did not realise what she was until it was too late for your kind. The queen does not consider magic but understands the connections someone like Uther can make to it. Naturally she never shared them.”  
  
“And what is this ‘sixth sense’ they have?”  
  
“That does not matter for now.”  
  
“But is this ability the reason why the Orcadian queen is always one step ahead of everyone?” Merlin asked. At that the dragon started laughing again (and annoying Merlin). He shouted, “Stop laughing! If the Orcadian queen really is one step ahead of everyone then my chances of finding Gwen are slim—I can barely find an object of hers to do the finding spell.”  
  
“I’m sorry,” the dragon agreed, ceasing his laughter. “You are right. I can’t help you in finding the right object for a finding spell but... I wouldn’t worry too much about the Orcadian queen. You should trust her instinct for she is not all that she seems.”  
  
Merlin nodded with nothing else to ask. A few days ago a statement like that would have surprised Merlin but the revelations by Gaius over the last few days meant he was not surprised that Anna wasn't 'all that she seemed'. Despite having to ‘make a bargain with the devil’ the meeting had been more productive than they usually were. “Right, thanks then...”  
  
As he turned to walk away the dragon called again. “Merlin...”  
  
The boy turned, “What is it?”  
  
“I have been hoping for a long time you would return,” the dragon confessed in a croaking tone. “Not just for myself but for your sake too.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“The witch,” the dragon told him, his tone moving from croaking to more passionate and forceful. “The Lady Morgana... you should keep your distance from her, Merlin.” (He noted the boy’s eyes rolling no doubt from memories of Gaius’s warnings.) “I am warning you—the path that the witch will ultimately choose leads to nothing but doom and chaos, _and you must_ never _follow her down it_.”  
  
And with that the dragon picked up his wings and flew upwards leaving Merlin silent and unnerved.


	4. Chapter 4

Cador picked meagrely at his breakfast as he sat in his chambers but couldn’t bring himself to eat more than a few pieces of cheese. He told one of the handmaidens to cut the meat up and give it to Fach for her next meal. The bread he decided to throw out the window for the birds along the coast. It was common practise for him to throw unwanted bread for the birds. The view from his window overlooked the Tintagel bay and sea; every morning he awoke to hear them squawking hungrily, trying to find dead fish to eat.  
  
As he walked to the window Cador noticed for the first time that day that the sun was actually visible in the sky. He smiled and looked down at the coast below. There on the beach he noticed Gwen strolling along as Fach dashed about, trying the small waves of water before deciding them too frightening for a young and tiny dog and rushing back to her mistress.  
  
Cador smiled genuinely this time and turned to Jermyn. “On second thought tell her to wrap up the meat and bring it back to me rather than putting it straight in Fach’s feeding bowl. I’m going for a walk.”  
  
Jermyn looked at his master in shock. “What do you mean for a _walk_ , your grace?”  
  
“I mean a walk,” he said humorously, “A walk on the coast if you want the details. Fetch my coat, would you?”  
  
The servant fumbled for Cador’s coat and helped him on with it. The whole time he looked at him wide eyed. Cador prepared silently before he finally turned to Jermyn again, still smiling. “Why the funny face, old friend?”  
  
“You _never_ go out for walks,” Jermyn replied.  
  
“It’s a nice day.”  
  
“It could be stifling but you’d still never go out.”  
  
Cador laughed and shook his head. “That will be all, Jermyn.”  
  
The servant rolled his eyes and went out the room. After another half an hour passed Cador emerged from his room, walked down the stairs and nearly stunned old Ysgyrdav to death as she caught him walking out the door. He turned and gave her an amused look, “Is there a problem, my dear old and faithful friend?” he asked.  
  
Ysgyrdav snorted. “Yes, my lord. Firstly, you appear to be venturing outside...”  
  
“Indeed,” Cador said jokily. “That is a hawk-eyed observation you make there, my dear.”  
  
“But that isn’t the only thing that shocks me,” the old woman went on. While the other servants looked at their master shyly in their surprise Ysgyrdav had known Cador too long to be taken aback by him like that. “The thing that surprises me is that it is half past nine in the morning and you’re moving around.”  
  
Cador burst out laughing. It was his normal daily practise to take breakfast in his room and work there before finally emerging at lunch time and going to his study to take care of work. In the last thirteen odd years he had never left his room a minute before noon and never ventured anywhere near the front door of the castle. He never even went out into the courtyard. Even his study had windows that were bordered up and the room was constantly lit with candles making it hot and stuffy. It would have been a long time since he had a lung full of fresh air.  
  
Ysgyrdav tilted her head, “Are you sure you are alright, master?”  
  
He nodded, “I feel grand, Ysgyrdav.”  
  
“In that case something must be terribly wrong with you,” the old woman grunted. She pointed to the door, “My young charge went out early this morning... I assume you’re looking for her?”  
  
“Ah” Cador said, tightening his coat around him, “you have seen through my wiles, old friend. Oh,” he became distracted stopped as Ysgudydd skipped up with the chopped meat in a napkin that Cador intended to feed to Fach, “Thank you, dear girl.”  
  
Ysgudydd smiled sweetly (although clearly surprised like everyone else to see her master half way out the door) before exchanging a surprised look with her mother and returning upstairs to do the tidying. Ysgyrdav eyed the napkin before looking at Cador again. “I know your game, your grace.”  
  
“You do?”  
  
“Yes,” she said, her strong Cornish accent making her sound as if she was scolding her master. Cador had always liked that quality of Ysgyrdav’s voice; it reminded him of his mother. “And while I know you’re trying to be kind and thoughtful... it’s not right to raise a young girl’s hopes.”  
  
“Which young girl’s hopes would that be?”  
  
“I speak of Mistress Gwen, of course,” the servant woman said plainly. “The poor child has been through a lot of pain in a situation, it must be said, _very_ similar to the one you went through twenty years ago with the (then) Lady A—”  
  
“Thank you for your concern, Ysgyrdav,” Cador said cutting her off. “I think I know what I’m doing.”  
  
Ysgyrdav shook her head. “I just wouldn’t want to see this poor girl hurt again.”  
  
Cador nodded. “I thank your concern for young Guinevere. It was your maternal instincts that made me feel you would be the best person to look after the girl when she came here.”  
  
“She told me her own mother had died when she was a child,” the old woman said.  
  
The Duke nodded, “Yes, she did. I remember her...”  
  
He then looked out the door at the brightness of daylight. The gateway was wide open and was just a brisk walk across the courtyard away. Yet Cador felt nervous at the thought of leaving the security of his castle. He had become more than a hermit living in the castle; the self-inflicted isolation had made him somewhat _agoraphobic_! It even caused a pain in his stomach to admit he was taking those tiny steps over the castle’s threshold after so long. He looked back at Ysgyrdav who smiled faintly back at him before, finally, Cador picked up his pace and walked towards the gateway and onto the hills of Tintagel.  
  
The moment reached outside the castle walls the pain in Cador’s stomach slowly ebbed away and was replaced by a feeling of triumph. He turned back and looked at the towering gates. The last time he had passed them was a few months after Gorlois’s death. He had travelled to Camelot for the last time to agree on Morgana’s allowance that he would put aside for her. He had also gone to petition Uther to allow his brother’s bones to be placed with the rest of the family here, at Tintagel, but the king had refused on the grounds it would be ‘disrespectful’ to remove the body now. Even if it was for the Cornish burial place Gorlois had wanted.  
  
The fresh air of the beautiful landscape re-captured Cador’s heart. He _loved_ his beloved Tintagel.  
  
As he walked in the direction he had seen Gwen passing he thought about that last journey to Camelot. The journey had seemed longer somehow. Never had he thought months before when he saw Gorlois off on that fateful battle did he think he would never see him again. He had been such a formidable warrior that Cador used to suspect that Gorlois’s death was not an accident...  
  
But there was no point on dwelling on a theory that could not be proved. Even if he could, what good would it do? Gorlois was dead like so many others. One day Uther would die to, and so would Cador. In his solitude Cador had come to believe that in the harsh and cruel world they existed the old law of ‘an eye for an eye’ just led to more unnecessary death. And now with the upcoming war of the north it seemed more blood would be spilled over land and power.  
  
Oh how Cador _hated_ King Lot and his damned brother Urien...  
  
Cador reached the cliff edge and slowly made his way down to the beach where sat Gwen as Fach dashed around the beach happily. The sound of him coming down was masked by the sound of the waves. Once he reached the bottom Fach caught sight of him and rushed excitedly to greet him. He immediately placed down the napkin for her to feast on.  
  
When Gwen turned around and saw him she was almost as surprised as the servants had all been that morning. From what she had heard Cador _never_ went outside. She quickly got to her feet and lowered her head respectfully as Cador, still wobbling from leaving the castle and climbing down the cliff, staggered up to her.  
  
He chuckled, “For God’s sake, Gwen. Lift your head at once.”  
  
Gwen obeyed. “I’m sorry I’m just surprised to see you...”  
  
“I saw you from my window there,” he pointed towards where the castle over looked the coast. “I thought I’d come and speak to you.”  
  
“I’m flattered you went to such trouble...”  
  
Cador cleared his throat. “Well, I’ve been meaning to get out of the castle for the last...” he stopped when he was the expression of Gwen’s confused eyes and smiled, “for the last twelve years.”  
  
They both sat down on a smooth rock and looked out towards the sea. Cador was glad to be taking the weight off his shaking knees. He made a great sigh and explained himself better. “The truth is that I think the time will soon come that I will have to leave this island and engage more with the people of Cornwall, with the army...”  
  
Gwen’s eyes widened. “Have you been asked by one of the kings to take part in the war...?”  
  
“No, no” Cador assured her, “At least not yet I haven’t. No, I just suspect that soon I will have to stop being the hermit, come out of my shell and _start doing things_. It’s never too late, after all.”  
  
The young woman looked away. “I suppose not.”  
  
Cador regarded her, noting the disbelief in her voice. “You don’t seem convinced.”  
  
She looked back at him. “I’m sorry, your grace. I’m feeling very cynical today. I meant no offence.”  
  
“Considering your situation I cannot blame you for feeling cynical,” Cador admitted with a smile and managed to coax that all-too familiar sad smile from Gwen’s face also. “We all have days like that. I remember your mother was one of the worst cynics on her off-days. Yet on her on-days there was no mountain she wouldn’t attempt to climb.”  
  
“Is that so?” Gwen asked. “I don’t really remember my mother.”  
  
“She died when you were very young,” Cador agreed sadly.  
  
“I was six.”  
  
“I recall it well.”  
  
Gwen looked at him. “You are one of the few memories I have of my early life. The day you came by not long after my mother died and gave me that box and the silver fairy...”  
  
“That’s right!” Cador recalled cheerfully. “I was looking after Arthur that day as Ector was busy on some nonsense for Uther. The grumpy old git was willing to keep the poor boy locked in all day simply because that buffoon Ector wasn’t there to guide him. So, I told Uther the boy could come into town with me. He agreed although he did not approve.”  
  
Gwen laughed. “Ector isn’t that bad even if he is slightly patronising.”  
  
“You recall him too then?”  
  
“He hasn’t changed much since then,” she said nostalgically. “But even back then I can remember how he used to look at what my father was doing and ask embarrassingly contrived questions. My father and I used to exchange amused looks when he finally moved on to patronise our neighbours.”  
  
“Idiot”  
  
“His son is a good man, though” Gwen added quickly. “Kay; he fell in love with the widowed Lady Bedivere and treats her sons as if they were his own. I imagine they’re engaged now... I hope they are.”  
  
“I remember he was a pleasant boy,” Cador agreed, before he grinned widely at another memory. “I recall how fascinated Arthur used to be with the work of iron’s ore. He told me once when that whenever he was in town he liked to watch the local smithy (your father, not the royal one) work, especially if he were making weapons.”  
  
Gwen found herself blushing. She could not really remember seeing Arthur because she had been quite young when all of this would have happened but she did have a faint memory of that beautiful and angelic looking boy – who had been surprisingly small and thin then considering what he was like _now_ – watching curiously as her father continued to work, uninstructed by the prince’s keen eye. But Tom would still smile as he was thrilled to see that his work sparked interest in the boy more than the fact he was the young prince.  
  
Yes, Gwen could just about remember that.  
  
In all that time Arthur’s eyes had rarely strayed to her or her to him. They existed in a separate world to each other despite the fact that Gwen had entered servitude not long after that. On a rare occasion they had seen each other nothing much had been said. Neither of them had expected it; he was a prince and she was a commoner. The closest they had ever been was that day Cador came by with Arthur to give Gwen that beautiful box and the silver fairy. No one would have suspected ten years later they would be the leads in their own star-crossed love affair or that the silver fairy would be so significant to that love.  
  
“I kept that fairy safe for many years,” Gwen suddenly said aloud.  
  
Cador smiled again. “I suppose you were forced to leave it behind in the rush to get you out of Camelot.”  
  
“No,” she confessed quickly. “I gave her to Arthur. For a long time the fairy was a reminder of my mother and then when my father died of him. It was all I had; that and my hope that one day Arthur would become king and Camelot would become a better place. When I fell in love with him it was like... I didn’t need it anymore.”  
  
The duke looked away from Guinevere and out towards the sea. It made him feel glad in some ways that the fairy had given her comfort over the loss of her mother and then over the loss of her father. It made him prouder still that she kept it safe all those years and then, when she felt she no longer needed it, gave it to the man who had restored hope into her life as well as provided her with love. It was a moving tale.  
  
“I never told you the story of the fairy, did I?” Cador suddenly said, shifting over to look at Gwen again. “You know there is a story, don’t you?”  
  
Gwen shook her head.  
  
“The fairy is fashioned into the shape of Eluned,” he explained, enjoying sharing the local flavour with his charge. It had always been a hobby of his reading local legends. “She is something of a hero here in Cornwall. She was the handmaiden to Modfen, the fountain goddess. Legend has it that a knight dressed all in red desired Eluned but she fled in search of a warrior who could free her from this pursuit. She appealed to King Brychan for one of his knights to protect her but, as she would not reveal her name (for she was of low birth), he spited her by sending a simple kitchen servant to guide her.”  
  
Cador paused to laugh; Gwen shivered from the sea breeze and the tale; it seemed so uncanny for reasons she did not know.  
  
“As you can imagine she was not best pleased,” he went on, “but too frightened to go alone Eluned agreed for the kitchen servant (whose name was ‘Gwynnwylo’) to accompany her. Although merely a servant he defended Eluned but she still did not realise his worth at first. They travelled together for a year and founded churches together but they were both shunned by society when accused of stealing chickens.”  
  
Gwen’s head snapped to look at Cador, “She was accused of stealing chickens? That’s... a rather random accusation.”  
  
“Isn’t that the wonderful thing about legends?” Cador said half a question and half a declaration of love at how varying folklore could be. He then went on to conclude his tale, “Eluned and the kitchen servant ended up living in a cave before the red knight finally found them. The red knight immediately recognised the kitchen servant and revealed that he is, in fact, a northern prince. Regardless of that the prince vowed to protect Eluned and, in return, she confessed her love for him before he challenged the knight.”  
  
He then paused; Gwen’s curiosity was aroused. “And then what?”  
  
Cador looked back at her, “There are a few versions of the tale; one says that he defeated the red knight, married Eluned and lived happily ever after... but in truth the red knight used trickery during the duel and killed them both. Just as he was about to kill the prince Eluned threw herself in front him and the red knight’s sword pierced them both through their hearts. The goddess Modfen then appeared and instead of blood sweeping from their hearts water spouted instead until...”  
  
He stopped again and raised his arms to present the sea before them. Gwen looked around and smiled. “Tintagel was formed,” she finished softly.  
  
Cador nodded and pointed to the caves just by the beach. “That there is Eluned’s cave,” he told her. “I used to play hide and seek in there with Gorlois when I was a child.”  
  
Gwen’s sad smile remained constant as she stroked Fach and looked out at the sea again.  
  
“I know it’s probably just a pretty little story to you,” Cador confessed, “but I think it has a greater meaning. Regardless of whether Eluned was real or not she began cynical of her commoner-disguised-prince companion before they were both thrown together into the cruelty of the world. It took her a while to realise that in the entire world she had only him and he had only her. There is a lesson to be learned from Eluned.”  
  
“What is that lesson, Cador?” Gwen said solemnly.  
  
“Many things,” Cador stated, before he sighed and went on, “but after years of reflection I think what it really teaches us is to never underestimate the power of love. It doesn’t just sprout in unlikely places but flourishes, just like the waters of Tintagel. It can become part of something greater.”  
  
The young woman closed her eyes and, after a brief moment of contemplation, chuckled faintly. The story had been a nice one; it reminded of the ones she used to hear as a child, tales of beauty and love ending in a gruesomely tragic way. Yes, it was quite a romantic thing to die for love... but Gwen always thought she’d rather live for it.  
  
Cador sighed, “Now I know that Ysgyrdav warns me against upsetting you by telling you things like this...”  
  
“No,” she said quickly, turning back to him. “On the contrary your story has cheered me up a little despite its gruesome (yet fulfilling) ending. It was nice hearing the story behind the silver fairy.”  
  
The air began to chill as the clouds eclipse the sun; rain would be coming soon. The pair stood from their stone seat and Gwen brushed down her dress. The sound of the material was fine and ruffled beneath her hands. Once she had done that Cador offered his arm and she accepted, calling Fach to follow them.  
  
On their way back to the castle Gwen picked up on their earlier subject and asked a question that had been on her mind for a while. “When your brother died why didn’t keep Morgana here at Tintagel? Why did she go to Uther and Camelot?”  
  
Cador shrugged. “I admit I did take it personally at first when my brother told me that, if he died, she would go to Uther rather than stay in the family but... I understand why he did it. Tintagel is a beautiful place but not ideal to raise a young girl. There is little society and since her mother did a bunk many years ago there aren’t many women here for her to interact with. In Camelot she would have all of that and even a younger brother to play with. I realised that it was for the best.”  
  
“I suppose every child at one time wishes for a little sibling they can torture,” Gwen chuckled.  
  
She recalled how much Arthur and Morgana used to squabble over things from the games they played to which got what room once they were old enough to leave the nursery. They were both terribly spoiled and always demanded getting their way rather than the other. Gwen never realised at the time but more often than not it was her mistress that got her way as Uther always came down on her side. Arthur never got first pick. She didn’t know whether it was because he was younger or that Uther felt the need to pander to the orphaned Morgana but it was only with benefit of hindsight that Gwen saw how rarely Arthur got what he really wanted.  
  
Gwen sighed sadly.  
  
Cador placed a hand on her shoulder; she was a little surprised as she had once again dazed off into her own world. He smiled, “I fear I have once again reminded you of home...”  
  
“Oh,” she said distantly, “I’m always reminded of home. I never stop thinking about it. Not a moment goes by that there isn’t something to remind me of Camelot, of Arthur...”  
  
“I know,” Cador said with empathy. “After twenty years I have learned to cope with the memories but... not a day goes by that I don’t think of the woman I loved.” He then laughed, “I have rarely seen her since then so in my head she remains eighteen years old, sitting by a window, watching the people in the courtyard below...”  
  
He looked at Gwen; her mind was focused on his words.  
  
“They are memories that never die,” he finished.  
  
-  
  
Merlin sat in Arthur’s chambers pondering over what the dragon had told him. It had all been a lot to take in. The things he had revealed about Queen Anna, Princess Elaine and the whole issue with Arthur and Gwen had been a lot to digest but the thing that got him the most was his final warning about Morgana. It echoed Gaius’s warnings so strongly that it worried him; what did they know that he didn’t?  
  
In the end he pushed everything about Morgana out of his head. He knew what she was like—and he knew just how homicidal she could get sometimes such as the unmentionable plot against Uther. It was an event that Merlin tried his best to brush off although it would sometimes come back to him, how close Uther came to death. Merlin sometimes wondered if he should have left him to die but every bone in his body told him it wrong. Yet all Uther had done was cause misery to Merlin’s kind, to Gwen and even Arthur through his actions.  
  
No, he couldn’t blame Morgana for wanting Uther dead but at the same time he would never allow her to kill him. To agree to a plot against Uther would be to betray Camelot and all their friends. Uther had to keep living even if it meant living in silence and fear. Merlin had got used to being lonely; even with Morgana’s friendship and Gaius’s guidance he often felt incredibly lonely. Now he had neither Gaius nor Morgana as the former had lied to him and the latter could potentially see the death of both her and him. In more ways than one if the dragon was to be believed.  
  
Merlin did not trust the dragon _but_ he also knew that the creature had no reason to lie about anything.  
  
Forget about what he said about Morgana, Merlin told himself nonetheless. You know her better than he does. And there was that old familiar pain in Merlin’s chest. Even if he couldn’t be her friend any more (for their own safety—to avoid them doing something stupid) he would still guide her from afar, try and help her as best he could. Meanwhile he would just sit alone in the dark and be lonely...  
  
Merlin decided to focus his mind completely on working out a way to find Gwen and reunite her with Arthur. All other attempts had failed but now he had the promise of a dreamless night dangled before him it encouraged him to think ‘outside the box’. It wasn’t just seeing his two friends happy anymore; this was a stepping stone towards a greater change and he had to solve it. Not only would it soothe his dreams but it would help Morgana too, and Elaine, apparently.  
  
The dragon had told him that he needed to find Gwen. In order to find Gwen he needed to conduct a finding spell. In order to conduct a finding or location spell you needed an object that belonged to the lost individual to find them. Merlin did not have an object that belonged to Gwen...  
  
He looked around Arthur’s room.  
  
Arthur was probably the only person who might still have objects that had belonged to Gwen given to him as a token of love or memento. Prior to now he rarely had a chance to root through Arthur’s draws to search for such a thing because he was constantly at his master’s side. Even then he didn’t really think about searching Arthur’s things for something that belonged to Gwen. He didn’t know why since it seemed so _obvious_ that he would have something that she gave him.  
  
He knew she had given Arthur something.  
  
Merlin went to the one of the draws by Arthur’s bedside. The lower draw on the right-hand side was locked but he knew this was where he kept the silver fairy that Gwen had given him. It had belonged to Gwen and had sentimental value to her. That would make the finding spell strong.  
  
He didn’t have the key but that was no barrier to a warlock. He opened the draw with little effort and reached inside. The draw itself was a trick draw with two bases to it. On the top of the draw there were just boring old papers that looked important but no one would ever steal. Merlin reached underneath them to find where the lever that opened the secret draw was. He pulled up the base of the draw and looked at what lay under.  
  
He sighed in defeat but not surprise; the fairy was not there. Arthur must have taken it with him. Merlin had thought Arthur would... but he reckoned that if he kept the fairy in here he might have kept other things too. There was a rich red cloth lying over the objects hidden in the draw. Merlin pulled it away and was thrilled to see what he found.  
  
Under the red cloth in the hidden draw lay a bounty of objects. There were dried up flowers, pins, ribbons and slides all of which Merlin remembered seeing at one time or another in threaded into Gwen’s hair. He even saw the kerchief that she had given to Arthur before the joust with Gawain. There was even what looked like the string from one of Gwen’s dresses but Merlin didn’t want to dwell on how Arthur had acquired _that_.  
  
Yet of all the objects in the draw there was one particular thing that caught his eye, or rather, a collection of things. There tied together with a red ribbon were _the letters_.  
  
Merlin immediately reached into the draw and picked them out. He knew it was none of his business (once the letters started to get a bit more personal and day-related Arthur stopped sharing them with him) but he couldn’t help briefly flicking through them. They were all written in Gwen’s pretty hand. After flicking through them a few times he noticed that the first couple of letters were not in the collection.  
  
As he went back to the draw to see if they had slipped out the door to Arthur’s chambers opened. Merlin nearly dropped the letters in shock. He spun around in shock and worried that someone had caught him going through his master’s things. He was Arthur’s servant and might be able to bluff his way out of it if it were the chambermaids but if it was a guard they might accuse him of stealing.  
  
To his relief (and distress) it was neither of those people. It was Morgana.  
  
Suddenly all the things he had thought about before became relevant again. He wondered what she was doing here. He quickly put the letters down and shoved the draw closed. “Morgana,” he stuttered in vague surprise, “I thought—I thought we agreed not to talk...”  
  
“I know,” Morgana said nervously. She hesitated for a moment before she awkwardly turned around to close the door and approach Merlin again. “I know what we agreed but... I’ve been thinking about what you said.”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“About... us,” she said slowly. Her eyes fell down and she found it hard to keep looking at him. But Merlin’s eyes were fixed on her. “I just wanted you to know that I appreciate everything you have done for me,” Morgana finally looked up. “You are a good friend.”  
  
Merlin looked away. “Thank you.”  
  
“I’m not going to lie about how I feel,” Morgana went on. Her words felt like sand in her mouth but she managed to smile, glad to get the words off her chest. “You mean more to me than just a servant that happens to be my friend because, sometimes, I feel like you’re the only person that understands me.” She sniffed, moved by her own words, “I’d... I’d be so _lonely_ if I didn’t have you.”  
  
She had to stop and covered her mouth with her hand.  
  
Merlin watched her coyly not knowing what to say. There was a huge part of him that wanted to run over, take her hand and tell her that he’d never let her be lonely. But that was a promise he couldn’t make. Even if they vowed to remain together Merlin knew that one day they would probably have to part ways for one reason or another. It was a painful thought but he had to think about it. The dragon’s words had made him believe it even more.  
  
“Merlin,” Morgana said after a long contemplative pause. “I never want to see you get hurt. If anything happened to you I’d never forgive myself... and I know I can be selfish in asking you to take risks and I’m sorry for that. You always take it upon yourself to look after people and I sometimes forget that... you are so young...”  
  
She was babbling; Merlin sighed, “Morgana...”  
  
“Please,” she said quickly. “Let me finish; I will never, _ever_ ask you again. I promise you. I will do as you said and live with my feelings like you have done. All I ask is that you don’t sever the bond that we have because otherwise...”  
  
The young warlock blinked, “Otherwise?”  
  
Morgana swallowed, “I’m worried what I’ll become without you.”  
  
There was a long pause. Merlin realised that Morgana had finished her plight. He looked away from her and glanced out the window, not knowing what to say in return. She had told him she would never ask him to be her lover again as long as he promised to remain her friend. It was not an unreasonable request. He understood Morgana’s primary concern was being left alone. She was still so fragile in her understanding and use of magic that he felt the need to protect her from it.  
  
Yet at the same time the fear of them parting ways one day sunk in. He knew that it would probably be better to end this thing now. Any promise to keep their hands off each other was a half promise and Merlin didn’t trust Morgana or himself to keep to it. He feared that one day that bond between them would get the better of them. Or worse; maybe as the dragon said they would go off in separate directions and their bond would be forcibly severed.  
  
He turned back to look at her.  
  
His mind told him he should end this now; that he should break the chain and tell her that (like he had once done) she would have to find her own way in the world. It would hurt less to do it now then wait until whatever happens...  
  
But when Merlin’s eyes met Morgana’s across the room and he saw how anxious, desperate and lonely she was he just couldn’t turn her away. He could almost hear her mind crying out for him to accept her plea and he couldn’t refuse. He sighed; this would be the death of him.  
  
Yet he couldn’t help but smile at her – his way of telling people that everything would be alright – and turned back to the draw. He opened it and took back the letters. “You know,” he told her cheerfully, “I think we’ve solved the problem of the finding spell...”  
  
Morgana’s face perked up and she dashed across the room to see what he meant. There she was confronted with the precious bounty that Arthur kept so lovingly safe. She gasped in surprise, “You do realise he will kill you if he knows you’ve been down his draws?”  
  
“Arthur tries to kill me at least once a week,” Merlin replied wittily. “He’s slacked over the last few weeks in his sorrow over Gwen’s exile so a return to norm might be good for him. Then again I don’t intend for him to find out.”  
  
Morgana smiled and picked up the lace from a dress. “Isn’t this...”  
  
“Yes,” Merlin smirked. “I don’t want to think about it.”  
  
“Never would have taken Arthur for a bodice-ripper,” she joked as she put it down and picked up the kerchief. There was some dried blood on it. “It remarkable... he kept it all. How did you find this?”  
  
“I knew he kept the silver fairy here,” Merlin explained. “He’s taken that with him but I thought, for the first time in a while, that maybe he kept other things in here too. I even found out the secret of where he hid their love letters. He would never tell me.”  
  
Morgana sighed. “ _Danu_ we’ve come so far since then.”  
  
“The earlier letters are missing but these were all written by Gwen,” Merlin explained to her as he began to pick things out of the draw. “These objects all came from Gwen but the letters meant something to her when she wrote them. The more important the more likely we are to find her when we do the spell.”  
  
Morgana raised an eyebrow, “We?”  
  
Merlin’s smile became more genuine. “Of course, we’ll do it together... only if you want to, of course.”  
  
“Of course I do,” she replied cheerfully.  
  
“Good,” he said and handed some of the objects to her. “We’ll wrap them in the red cloth, take them to my room and do the spell there. We had better get to it straight away before Arthur returns and sees his draw had been purged...”  
  
Morgana chuckled. “Alright lead the way, master of enchantment.”  
  
Merlin wiggled his eyebrows and rushed over to the door to open it for them. Morgana stood still for a moment before calling to him again.  
  
“Merlin...”  
  
He turned around, “Yes?”  
  
“I took the sleeping draught last night,” she informed him, “Just as I promised.”  
  
Merlin made a quick and small smile. “I’m glad.”  
  
After that they left Arthur’s chambers and Merlin made sure to lock it behind him.  
  
-  
  
The Orcadian prince and his guards had provided good company from the Camelonian knights and guards on their way back to Camelot. All they could talk about was how lucky it had been that Prince Gawain and his entourage had turned up when they did else the unthinkable could have happened.  
  
Arthur didn’t think it was a drastic as that but he was still extremely grateful for everything his cousin had done. If ever he were to have a right-hand man to fight a long side in battle it would always be Gawain. No question of it. It wasn’t just that they were cousins but because Arthur had never met a more accomplished young knight. He had the training and valour of a true prince. In some ways Arthur saw Gawain as what he might have been had his life gone in a different direction. Moreover Gawain knew Arthur’s tactics; as children they had trained together religiously whenever the family visited. Their trainers told them they movement mirrored each other perfectly.  
  
Arthur was very glad to see Gawain again... but there was something strange about the way he had just turned up like he did. It had to be planned. He wasn’t being suspicious or paranoid; he knew Gawain’s mind. Although not as polished in his art of control as his mother was Gawain knew ‘how to play’ – as Anna called it – and was often the queen’s confidant in her plans. That much Arthur did know.  
  
He had hoped Gawain would reveal all during their last night in the village but nothing was said. The younger man would at times question the villages about any other strange goings on, something which they then said Arthur had asked them about, causing Gawain to exchange a look with his cousin. It wasn’t surprised; it was one that knew _something_.  
  
Gawain’s silence frustrated Arthur to no end. There were even moments that he convinced himself that he had been sent by his mother to be his guide dog, to make sure he came back to Camelot and didn’t dally too long. Yet other times he wondered if he was genuinely there to help him one way or another.  
  
The silence continued in the morning as they made their way back to Camelot too. The only words Gawain said were ‘Good morning’ and order to his men to gather their things up for the journey back. All the information Arthur could scrape from Gawain’s men was that they were happy to be reaching Camelot finally. It seemed the green tunics were just as useless with giving information as the red ones were.  
  
Arthur couldn’t even keep a slow pace like he had first time around so Gawain, it seemed, was hurrying him back to Camelot to meet his doom. So he rode on uncomplaining through the forests and down the dusty paths of realm while the whole time dreading the prospect of reaching Camelot and Elaine.  
  
Then suddenly about thirty miles outside the city Gawain decided he wanted to stop. Arthur, his knights and what was now an army of Camelonian and Orcadian men grounded to a halt. The young prince turned to Arthur, “It is nearly noon—we should rest a while.”  
  
Arthur wasn’t going to complain. “You’re right.”  
  
The knights found a few logs to sit on and gossip like women about domestic life again while the men all shared out their water bottles to each other so everyone got a much needed drink. Arthur and Gawain both, in unison, grabbed their drinking bottles and took a large swig. They then both put them away and looked at each other.  
  
Finally Arthur felt compelled to press his earlier issue. “You still haven’t told me why you came to the western border of all places, Gawain.”  
  
Gawain wiped his lips dry. “Didn’t I?”  
  
“No.”  
  
“Well,” the young prince replied, eyeing Arthur’s knights, not keen on them hearing. “Let me make amends for that. I wish to speak to you anyway... about something important.”  
  
“Then tell me,” Arthur said plainly.  
  
Gawain shook his head. “In private, if you don’t mind. I also want to hear everything that has been going on since I was last in Camelot... and before if you don’t mind?”  
  
The elder cousin eyed the younger one curiously. There was a moment when his mind let him believe that... but surely not? Arthur nodded and the two men stepped off the road and walked until they found a nearby clearing. A small brook babbled close to them creating a white noise that toned out the sound of the chattering men behind them. Once they stood together in the clearing Arthur wasted no time.  
  
“I wish you would just tell me what the hell is going on, Gawain!” he snapped.  
  
Gawain was calm as ever, smiled and shook his head, “First I want you to admit the real reason why you were so keen to get away from Camelot and defied your father. I cannot believe it was just to ensure the beast was defeated.”  
  
Arthur looked away, focusing on the brook. “I...I don’t know how to answer that.”  
  
“Let me make it simple,” the younger man said confidently. “You came to the western border because you wanted to avoid coming face to face with my sister, am I right?”  
  
“Gawain, I—”  
  
“And the reason for that is because you don’t want to marry her,” Gawain went on.  
  
Arthur swallowed. “I am a prince; I cannot choose with whom I marry. That is my father’s choice... whatever my feelings for Elaine are is irrelevant.”  
  
“But am I right in thinking the reason you do not wish to marry Elaine is because,” Gawain paused a moment a tilted his head. “You are in love with someone else.”  
  
For the first time in a long time Arthur felt his cheeks redden. He looked away, “As I said my feelings are—”  
  
“Oh stop talking rubbish, Arthur!” Gawain laughed amusedly. “I knew you were in love the moment I saw you on May Day, and if that wasn’t enough, a few days later after the joust when I was recovering from my fall I saw it again. There, in your eyes. It’s obvious. Now, let’s try again, tell me what happened else you’ll force me to start guessing.”  
  
Arthur was bewildered by Gawain’s forwardness and (apparent) knowledge of everything that had been going on without Arthur even telling him. “What exactly do you know?”  
  
“A lot,” the prince finally confessed. “But I want to hear it from you. I want to know whether everything I’ve heard is true.”  
  
Arthur glanced in Gawain direction before he began to pace about the clearing helplessly, not knowing where to start. His cousin’s eyes on him he tried to recount the events that led to this absurdity with Gwen, Elaine and his father.  
  
“I barely know where to start,” Arthur muttered. He stopped and looked at Gawain, “I don’t want to offend you.”  
  
Gawain tilted his head, “How would you offend _me_?”  
  
“You are Elaine’s brother,” Arthur replied faintly.  
  
“Elaine’s a big girl who can look after herself,” Gawain scoffed. “Besides... it takes a lot to offend _me_ , Arthur.”  
  
Arthur nodded faintly and began pacing again. This went on for another minute before he finally cracked; he stamped his foot on the ground and spun around to face Gawain. “Why is it that a prince has privileges above all men in Albion yet cannot choose their spouse?”  
  
“Bigotry,” the Orcadian prince suggested simply. “Every child is a pawn of their father and every prince is a pawn of dynastic plans made by the kings.”  
  
“The title ‘princess’ or ‘lady’ seems to be worth more to my father than a woman’s worthiness to be a queen,” Arthur snapped, not at Gawain but at the air, before he quickly added, “Not that I’m saying Elaine isn’t...”  
  
“Arthur!” Gawain scolded. “Come on, this is me... just tell me what happened to her, to Guinevere.”  
  
The elder prince stared at the younger one and sighed. “So, you really do know everything?”  
  
“Not everything,” Gawain confessed. “But I know enough; my mother is Anna, and we also had Áedh keeping us updated. I presume you figured that out, didn’t you?””  
  
Arthur nodded faintly. “I told my father I would not marry Elaine and when I refused to cooperate with him he locked me in the dungeons. It’s nothing personal against your sister but I just can’t bring myself to face the idea of her being my wife. I don’t see how it would solve anything and besides...” he stopped for a moment and smiled. He reached under his armour and pulled out the silver fairy. Gawain saw the shining metal though Arthur kept it firmly gripped in his hands, “I didn’t want be without Guinevere or see her granted the derogatory title of mistress...”  
  
“I understand.”  
  
“And now,” Arthur went on with an odd tint of passion in his voice, “My father had her exiled to—I don’t know—and I know he’s not clever enough to have organised it himself, he had help...”  
  
Gawain nodded. “He did. He asked my mother for help in ‘dealing’ with the situation.”  
  
“I’m not surprised,” Arthur muttered, his voice falling back into a defeated tone. “I don’t blame your mother because everything she did, she did for her family, for Elaine... My father can make no such claim.”  
  
There was a long paused as the two men tried to move past the resurfacing of old feelings and painful events they had watched unroll before their eyes. Arthur leant against a tree, swallowed, and spoke slowly. “You once promised me that if I ever needed help you would,” he began carefully, not turning to face Gawain. “Is that still true?”  
  
“Of course,” Gawain said.  
  
Arthur spoke as if his words were causing him real, physical pain. “In that case... could you help me in trying to,” he paused a moment, “trying to delay the formal agreement of marriage between Elaine and I? I know it’s not right to ask you this but... I need time, time to, well, get my head around it, to learn to live with the idea...”  
  
He was cut off by Gawain at that moment. Arthur thought he was going to reprimand him for what he had asked but what occurred next took him by complete surprise.  
  
“That’s it!” Gawain snapped loud enough for the men to hear. He quickly took his tone down and hurried to Arthur’s side. “This has gone on far enough. I promised I wouldn’t tell you until we returned to Camelot but... I can’t let you go on like this.”  
  
Arthur spun around in surprised. “What are you talking about?”  
  
“Arthur,” Gawain said quietly. “Nothing is as it seems.”  
  
“Again, what are you--?”  
  
“This whole thing it is not what you think it is,” Gawain said, as if making some terrible confession for a crime Arthur didn’t even know had been committed. “I was hoping simply to find out how you felt but—I can’t keep this from you any longer. As long as you do what I say it should be fine...”  
  
“Gawain,” Arthur said with the same forcefulness that he had used to interrupt him. “Just tell me what you are talking about.”  
  
Gawain sighed and nodded. “Alright, I’ll tell you but, like I said, I need you to do exactly as I say else...” he stopped; Arthur’s face told him that he got the point. It was poised and ready to listen. The younger prince swallowed. “ _I know where she is_.”  
  
That hit Arthur like nothing had ever hit him before. He wondered why he hadn’t guessed what this whole fiasco Gawain had led him on was about. Now he realised he was so occupied in his remorse over facing the cousin (who he respected) that was also the brother of Elaine. He couldn’t think about any of that now. Gawain’s revelation left him momentarily dumbstruck. Arthur swallowed a deep breath before gasping in shock. He could barely coherent words that another human being could understand.  
  
“Y-you know where she is?” Arthur finally managed to say.  
  
Gawain nodded slowly. “I couldn’t tell you before because it’s meant to be a secret. I shouldn’t have told you now but...”  
  
“But where is she?” Arthur said, barely hearing what his cousin had just said. “Tell me.”  
  
“I’ll tell you,” Gawain said calmly, taking a step forward. “I swear I will tell you and I will help. And so will Elaine but first you need to hear this...”  
  
“What?”  
  
Gawain paused a moment. “To hear what this whole thing has been about.”


	5. Chapter 5

Back in Camelot, Merlin was rearranging his tiny room to make space to conduct the finding spell successfully. The magic book said that he needed to create as much space as possible and, for this particularly strong spell, two or more helpers would help find the individual better. Two people would have to do as Merlin didn’t know anyone else with the magic gift. He hoped that his powerful magic would make up for the lack of bodies. Nonetheless he was excited as he shifted his bed out of the way at the thought that they would finally know where Gwen was. It would also be Morgana first powerful spell and, while she was by no means ready to do something like this on her own, Merlin would be there to help her and conduct this spell.  
  
Morgana watched as Merlin re-ordered the room and then began to draw a chalk circle on the floor. He then divided it into eighths and wrote strange signs on each corner. He was so distracted with his work yet he didn’t ask Morgana for help, not that she minded.  
  
Instead she turned her attention to his desk. It was covered in papers! It had little diagrams, bits of chants and writings all of which were connected to magic and enchantment. It scared her a bit; if a guard of Camelot were to march in here, he would be doomed. Yet the spells were all neatly written out on equally fitted paper. As she leant over to look closer she noticed that there were other papers too, those belonging to an old medical book. Morgana then spied the cover of that medical book; Merlin had cut out the pages.  
  
“I don’t think Gaius will be pleased with this,” she muttered.  
  
Merlin looked up and turned red. He grabbed a cloth from his bed to cover it all up. His movements were so quick he nearly tripped over and smudged his chalk work. He threw the cloth over it and took a deep sigh of relief.  
  
Morgana was very amused. “Goodness, Merlin! You’d think I’d have just uncovered your diary... or a secret stash of erotica!”  
  
Merlin’s face went even redder. “I have never kept a diary and I have never seen any... _you know_ , in my life.”  
  
Her smile widened. “Of course not, your life has been far too sheltered for that, hasn’t it?”  
  
Merlin said nothing; he didn’t even seem awkward any more. He neatly levelled the cloth over the table and turned back to his chalk writing, mumbling, “It’s just a project I’m working on. I’ve finished setting up, if you could sit on the other side of the circle and sit just as I am.”  
  
Morgana didn’t press the issue of the papers further and obeyed Merlin by sitting opposite him on the other side of the circle. She closed his bedroom door before she did and knelt before him as she, rather awkwardly, tried to cross her legs under her long, thick dress to mirror Merlin. Eventually she made herself comfortable and awaited further instruction.  
  
Merlin placed the letters in the centre of the circle along with the dried out flowers, hair slides and various other trinkets they had borrowed from Arthur’s secret draw. He then held out his hands to take Morgana’s, “Take my hands.”  
  
She didn’t waste any time in taking them.  
  
“I’m going to start doing the spell,” he informed her, much like he did during their simple lessons of magic. Morgana knew she had never quite done something this big or important before; she couldn’t risk it going wrong.  
  
“What do you want me to do?” she asked.  
  
“Try and clear your mind of everything,” Merlin told her. “The spell will draw magic from both of us as I perform it,” he moved their joined hands to position them over the objects, “then in our minds we will be shown the journey that Gwen took between Camelot and wherever she is now. Understand?”  
  
Morgana nodded quickly.  
  
“Right,” Merlin chirped happily. “Let’s do this; close your eyes.”  
  
Morgana obeyed. “Good luck.”  
  
“You too,” Merlin replied.  
  
He too closed his eyes and took a moment to begin chanting the spell. It was very long and complex with very few words Morgana recognised, but she refused to think too much of the spell – she had to keep her mind clear. All she thought of was back as that wonderfully mysterious and lilting way Merlin spoke when he used magic filled her ears;  
  
_“Brudd dduwiau Lleu a Gwydion, benthyca ni 'ch chreuau,_  
 _argeisiwn 'r berson, 'r gwrthddadlau berchen,_  
 _Gwynion Gwydion, argeisia 'u i maes,_  
 _Ca 'r deithio, ca_ Gwenhwyfar _, ca 'i llusga_  
 _Asbri falia 'm alw. Ca 'i awron...”_  
  
The words of the spell seemed to cast a shadow over Morgana’s mind, as Merlin said each word her grasp of what he was saying grew fainter and fainter until, upon the last word of the spell, a great surge of energy rushed through her. It took them both by surprise; Morgana nearly jumped back but Merlin grasped her hands tightly to keep her in place. She clutched her eyes as a faded image began to seep into her mind. It was such a bizarre feeling, like entering a trance. Merlin was slightly fazed by sensations to but he knew he had to keep them both focused.  
  
“Keep still,” he whispered to her. “Let the spell show us the way...”  
  
Without warning there was a burst of power inside their heads, like a great realisation. The image swiftly became clearer in their minds as they saw a birds-eye view look over the valley of Camelot. It zoomed to different angles, different locations within the forest – at one brief moment they both thought they saw Arthur and Gawain rushing along one of the paths towards Camelot but neither said anything – all the way across the plains and hills before finally reaching a river...  
  
“The Tamar,” Merlin whispered.  
  
Their hearts braced as they were taken over the natural beauty of the Cornish lands until, finally, the image stopped dead on one image. It was that of a castle sitting upon a cliff overlooking the sea. They both took a deep breath. There hunched up on top of a rock seated on the cliffs of the island looking out over the water towards the mainland was Gwen...  
  
Morgana’s eyes shot open.  
  
“Tintagel,” she cried in triumph.  
  
The moment she opened her eyes Merlin lost focus and the spell faded away. It was only then that Morgana realised that the objects in the middle of the circle had been glowing with their aura. It stopped the moment Merlin’s hands moved away; it was only at that point that Morgana remembered she was still holding them.  
  
“Merlin,” she said again, “I know that place. I know that castle anywhere; it’s Tintagel! I was born there, I grew up there... I spent _the first ten years of my life_ there!”  
  
Merlin gasped, “Uther must have left her in the care of the Duke.”  
  
“My uncle Cador,” she announced as if to remind him of the fact.  
  
There was a long pause.  
  
“She was there this whole time,” the young warlock gasped. He could barely find the right words to speak. He shook his head, “She looked so... sad.”  
  
“My uncle Cador is a good man, though” Morgana said quickly, as if wanting to defend her reclusive uncle she had not seen for nearly thirteen years. “He’s lived in solitude ever since my father died but he must have agreed to look after Gwen...”  
  
“Gwen told me once that he gave her the silver fairy,” he went on musing. “It sounded as if he and Tom were friends.”  
  
“They were,” Morgana confirmed. “Cador would always go to Tom for his armour, swords and horseshoes. In return for his work he gave him patronage... and Tom would often do lose shoes for free, although Uncle Cador hated that. He felt he was taking advantage of Tom’s good nature!”  
  
Merlin chuckled. “Then at least she’s been with someone she knows and looks after her.”  
  
“She was dressed quite finely,” Morgana recalled from the image they saw of her. “And although the castle doesn’t look like much and the servants aren’t as many as here in Camelot... they are all good people.”  
  
“I think it looks beautiful,” Merlin replied, “Tintagel.”  
  
Morgana smiled faintly. “There are many things from my early life that I don’t remember but I’ll never forget Tintagel.”  
  
A moment silence went by before Merlin, suddenly remembering himself, swiftly gathered up all of Gwen’s belongings and wrapped them up in the red cloth again. Morgana snapped out of daydream to watch him. “Come on,” he said as he picked the buddle up, “we have to get these things back to Arthur’s draw before he comes back and realises they’re gone.”  
  
“Why are you so certain we need to rush?” Morgana asked.  
  
“The vision showed how close he was to Camelot,” Merlin told her, rushing out his door. “It showed us this as it truly is and judging by Arthur’s speed we have... well, not very long.”  
  
They quickly rushed back to Arthur’s chambers. Morgana watched the door anxiously as Merlin hurried tried to return everything in the draw to how it had been before. He put the letters place in what he deemed to be their special place along with the dried flowers and hair slides. Finally he wrapped the red cloth over them and closed off the secret draw by closing the bottom of the lock draw over them. He hurried closed the draw and moved away...  
  
“Lock!” Morgana barked.  
  
Merlin stopped and quickly turned back to the door, locking it with his magic.  
  
They both sighed with relief and Merlin looked out the window; there was no sign of Arthur yet. He turned back to Morgana, “You’d better get back to your chambers.”  
  
Morgana nodded slowly and moved towards the side door near the bed rather than the main door. Before she left she turned and said, “Thank you.”  
  
“No, I should be saying thank you and well done,” Merlin told her. “You did very well with the spell—”  
  
“I wasn’t talking about that,” Morgana whispered. “I meant for being so nice about what happened earlier, what I said... and just, thank you.”  
  
Merlin nodded. “Don’t mention it.”  
  
She turned again to leave but once again stopped, this time chuckling. “I can’t believe we actually found Gwen.”  
  
Merlin smiled. “I know... I’m glad I was able to do the spell at all.”  
  
“Will you tell him as soon as he gets back?” Morgana asked.  
  
He nodded.  
  
She nodded too, smiling before she left the room leaving Merlin alone. He took a deep breath and sighed. For the first time he had a moment to think about all the things he had discovered. He knew where Gwen was and had made a promise to Morgana. He wanted to think more about what these two things meant, what might happen because of them but he had no time. The door to Arthur’s chambers flew open and in ran Gregory.  
  
“M-Merlin, he’s back!” he chocked, clearly having run all the way from town square to find Merlin. He tried to catch his breath, “It’s Prince Arthur, and he’s back. Prince Gawain is here too—nearly here—a whole _damned_ army of people...”  
  
“Calm down and take deep breaths,” Merlin told Gregory.  
  
Gregory slopped into a chair. “Sorry—I just ran all the way from—from—anyway, he’ll be here soon so you’d better get downstairs.”  
  
“I’ll be like the wind,” Merlin said excitedly.  
  
He was as good as his word. Being used to rushing around trying to save lives and keep up with enemies a quick run from Arthur’s chambers to the front door wasn’t much to him. He flew down the staircases until he made it to the front entrance of the castle.  
  
As he expected Arthur, Gawain, the knights and the guards of both kingdoms were already there. The Orcadian guards and knights that came with Queen Anna rushed out to greet the other guards and Prince Gawain who they had not seen in over a week.  
  
Arthur dismounted his horse swiftly and charged towards the front door. Merlin didn’t think he seemed angry or depressed; so he walked up to him quickly.  
  
“You’re back!” Merlin said enthusiastically.  
  
“Nothing escapes you, does it Merlin?”  
  
Arthur walked past Merlin towards the castle. The young servant faithfully followed him, deciding to just reveal what he knew then and there. He wasn’t sure how Arthur would react, whether he would ask questions or be suspicious of how he could know where Gwen was. But he couldn’t put off telling him.  
  
He rushed in front of him.  
  
Arthur stopped, “What is it, Merlin?”  
  
“Arthur,” Merlin began slowly, already getting on a very anxious Arthur’s nerves, “I have something very important to tell you.”  
  
“Spit it out, then” Arthur ordered. “And be fast I have a letter to write.”  
  
Merlin didn’t know what he meant but he went on. “Don’t ask me how I found out or how I know but” he stopped again and took a deep breath, “I know where Gwen is. She’s...”  
  
“At Tintagel Castle” Arthur finished, a faint smile appearing across his lips. “I know—don’t ask how _I_ found out and don’t tell my father.”  
  
The prince hit Merlin boyishly on the shoulder and hurriedly ascended the stairs leaving his manservant standing in the middle, dumbfounded.  
  
Arthur already knew? Maybe he’d met someone who told him on his trip. After all that hard work at figuring out how to do the finding spell... and Arthur had already found out. It was good that they now knew but it was frustrating for Merlin to find out he had just wasted the last day worrying about getting this spell right.  
  
A hand touched Merlin’s shoulder and he spun around. It was Gawain.  
  
The young prince smiled, “I assume you heard then?”  
  
Merlin pretended not to know. “Heard what?”  
  
“You don’t have to lie to me, Merlin” Gawain told him beckoning him to follow him up the stairs and too and quieter place where they could not be overheard by the wrong people. “It was me who told Arthur where Gwen was.”  
  
Merlin’s eyes widened, “Y-you knew where she was?”  
  
Gawain nodded. “I imagine you used a few ‘tricks’ to try and work it out too. I’m sorry if I’ve caused you to waste your time.”  
  
Merlin hated the way Gawain had referred to it as ‘tricks’ but he knew he did it because the ‘m’ word was not to be used unless absolutely necessary. Even then it was to be used with extreme caution. It took Merlin a moment to remember that Gawain knew about it. It was reassuring that the prince referenced it freely, however cryptically, to him. It was clear that Gawain had no vendetta against those with magic. Then again considering what Merlin had found out about his mother and sister it would be worse if he did.  
  
“No it’s fine,” Merlin eventually said. “It doesn’t matter which one of us told him as long as he knows.”  
  
Gawain nodded. “I’m sorry I couldn’t have said anything sooner; it was necessary, you see.”  
  
Merlin’s tone became serious. “You must be taking a terrible risk by telling Arthur about this.”  
  
“Why do you say that?” Gawain asked, tilting his head.  
  
The servant didn’t understand the prince’s indifference to his mother. Merlin swallowed, “I just assumed that your mother would...”  
  
His words were cut off by Gawain’s laughter.  
  
“Oh that!” Gawain said, as if he were not taking it seriously. “I don’t worry myself about that.”  
  
“What do you mean?” Merlin asked curiously.  
  
“It doesn’t matter right now,” the prince replied, brushing him off. He then leaned forward and smiled, “What does matter is that Arthur will need your help. I’ve already helped him come up with a plan, updated him on everything he needs to know... but he will almost certainly need your help.”  
  
“He _always_ does!” Merlin sighed.  
  
Elsewhere Arthur made his way straight to his chambers. He barely knew what to do even though Gawain had told him what to do. All he could think about was taking action but another part him knew he had to be careful. Arthur had been miserable for weeks; a drastic change in his mood would make people suspicious, or worse they’d start to think he was _happy_ about be engaged to Elaine. He’d rather be found out than let people think _that_!  
  
As he walked down the corridors, servants bowing as he went along, he knew he should call in on the throne room to see his father but, since they were not talking, he felt it could wait. The only regret he had was that it was being rude to his aunt Anna. But she was not so easily offended.  
  
The moment he opened the door of his room he quickly began to shred himself of his armour, throwing each piece to one side with a loud clatter as it hit the ground as he made his way to his bureau. He was more or less disrobed by the time he sat down of any type of metal except his chainmail. With one last effort he undid his belt (causing his sword to crash to the ground) and threw that off too. It felt liberating to get it all off.  
  
He grabbed some paper and ink, and began scribbling.  
  
Merlin came in to find Arthur engrossed in his work. He closed the chamber doors and began picking up the pieces of armour to put away. Arthur only faintly acknowledged Merlin’s presence behind him.  
  
“So,” the servant said, heaving the first parts to one side, “Gawain already told you where Gwen is.”  
  
“You really are psychic, aren’t you Merlin?” Arthur said sarcastically. The boy said nothing and walked closer to pick up the chainmail and sword. As he knelt down close to Arthur’s chair, the prince looked up from his page. “And how did _you_ find out where Guinevere is?”  
  
Merlin’s ears burnt as he tried to answer.  
  
“Um,” he hesitated, “well... I, um...”  
  
“Your hesitation can only mean you achieved the knowledge through unorthodox means,” the prince commented. Merlin felt his heart brace. Arthur tilted his head, “You heard Elaine talk about it or something didn’t you?”  
  
Merlin relaxed and beamed. “You got me.”  
  
Arthur turned back to his writing as Merlin carried the mail and sword to the basket and throwing it down with another crash, not even attempting to put it away properly.  
  
“Normally I’d reprimand you for eavesdropping, Merlin” the prince told him. “But given the circumstances I couldn’t give a damn how you came across the information.”  
  
“That’s good to know, sire.”  
  
“Frankly,” Arthur muttered absently. “I wouldn’t care if you’d used magic.”  
  
Merlin swallowed. “So Elaine knew where Gwen is too? I mean obviously she knew (since I overheard her and everything) but I was... surprised to find out that the queen even mentioned Gwen to her.”  
  
That was true. The other night it taken both Merlin (and Percival) by complete surprise to find out that Elaine had been aware of Arthur’s relationship with Gwen. He would have thought that Anna, in order to shield her daughter, would have kept her oblivious to the whole plot.  
  
“I was surprised too,” Arthur said, still writing. “Aunt Anna must have told her. Elaine is bright but she’s not the sloth her mother is.”  
  
“Of course,” Merlin said, not really knowing what else to say.  
  
He stood silently for a moment listening to the sound of Arthur’s pen scratching at the page. This went on for another minute before Merlin finally broke the silence.  
  
“So I take it we’re going to get her?” he said.  
  
“That goes without saying,” Arthur responded, finishing his letter.  
  
Merlin was pleasantly surprised that Arthur hadn’t questioned the ‘we’ part. Then again he remembered what Gawain said and assumed that Arthur already knew he needed his help. “So, you’re letting me come too?”  
  
“Of course,” Arthur said, sealing the letter. “I will need you later.”  
  
Arthur stood up from the table, walked to Merlin and handed him the letter.  
  
“This is very important, Merlin” the prince told the servant. “It is vital that Gwen gets this letter within the next day. I want you to ensure that it goes with the swiftest messenger to Cornwall.”  
  
Merlin nodded but then thought. “But... we can’t use the royal messenger because he might tell the king.”  
  
“No,” Arthur agreed, “Gawain said to use his messenger as he is one of the swiftest in the land and undetectable to my father. As far as he’s concerned, Gawain sent the letter.”  
  
“Where do I find him?”  
  
“He’ll be lodged with grooms I imagine,” Arthur told him. “Just go to the servants’ quarters set up for the Orcadian party and ask for Dáithí.”  
  
“Dáithí,” Merlin repeated, “Got it.”  
  
“Make sure he leaves tonight,” Arthur told him, but then he stopped, “No, as soon as he is able.”  
  
“Right” the servant turned to carry out the order, but then he had another thought. “Wait a minute won’t he get stopped at the Tamar? The guards on both sides are quite fierce when it comes to border crossing.”  
  
“Gawain has a declaration from Cador himself,” Arthur assured him quickly. “Dáithí has one too and is an Orcadian servant... so he can’t be searched by Camelonian guards. It’s undiplomatic, apparently.”  
  
Merlin gave an assured thumbs but before turning away to deliver the letter. He then thought of yet another thing.  
  
“Arthur...” he began.  
  
Arthur was starting to get irritated, “Ye- _es_?”  
  
“Just how are we going to sneak out of Camelot long enough for your father and aunt not to notice you’re missing?” he asked. “As soon as they realise they’ll send riders out for us.”  
  
Arthur made a faint smile. “That is taken care of, don’t worry.”  
  
The prince then made his way towards the backdoor of his room.  
  
Merlin called after him, “Where are you going?”  
  
“To do something important,” Arthur shouted back cryptically. He pointed at his servant with authority, “I want you back here in an hour to help me prepare for dinner. I’ll be seeing my aunt for the first time in four years and I want to make a reasonable impression.”  
  
Merlin nodded and left the room.  
  
Arthur waited until he was gone before he went out the other door to carry out his own activities. As he walked along he wondered if he should call in on his aunt before the dinner... but it would only be a few hours and she wouldn’t mind waiting. He didn’t even want to waste time thinking about Anna, Elaine or even Gawain. He simply wanted to run tomorrow’s plans through his head a few more times.  
  
Tomorrow was Friday.  
  
-  
  
Dinner was at the usual time and everyone was called to be there.  
  
It was also more formal than usual as Uther ensured that Arthur and Morgana both got there ahead of Anna, Gawain and Elaine. While they waited for the Orcadian family to arrive Uther scolded Arthur for not coming to pay greetings to his aunt that afternoon, but Arthur said nothing as per usual. Morgana just stood in silence thinking about that afternoon, partially in regards to Gwen but (admittedly) mostly in regards to Merlin. It made her smile.  
  
Finally the doors opened and, up keeping the unnatural formality, the queen and her family were announced by the doorman. Uther, Arthur and Morgana dragged themselves to their feet. “Announcing,” he began grandly, causing Arthur’s eyes to roll, “Their royal highnesses Queen Anna, Prince Gawain and Princess Elaine of Gododdin and Orkney.”  
  
As could be expected Anna did not wait for the doorman to step aside and neatly brushed past him as her two children followed. She turned to look at the doorman and chuckled, “Goodness me, you don’t need to stand on ceremony, Uther! If it were any other monarch I’d understand but,” she turned to look him with her cat-smile, “We are family.”  
  
Uther managed to smile. “I thought I would stand on ceremony since this will be the first occasion that we two and our children have been together for a meal.”  
  
“We’re flattered all the same,” Anna said with a nod of the head.  
  
Arthur looked over at the beautiful Elaine curiously. He wondered if she had changed much since he’d last seen her. The first thing he thought when he saw her was how tall she was now.  
  
Gawain and Elaine both lingered to one side as Anna dismissed their servants and everyone took their seats. Naturally Uther had placed Anna at the other head of the table, as accustomed to her position but Gawain and Elaine, who had not yet dined formally in Camelot, stayed standing. In politeness Arthur and Morgana also remained standing.  
  
Anna looked at the two siblings. “Are you two going to stand there like rabbits all night?”  
  
“We are waiting to be allocated seats, mother” Gawain replied with a smile. He then looked to Uther, “At home our father has a system, you see.”  
  
“For goodness sake, sit where you like!” Anna said cheerfully. “I told you no formality, just family.”  
  
Uther gestured the empty chair to his left. “Elaine, I’d be grateful if you would sit beside me. Gawain, I’m sure Arthur would appreciate you sitting beside him.”  
  
Arthur’s eyes immediately fell on the empty chair opposite him and he rolled his eyes again. It was just like his father to seat Elaine opposite him. He no doubt did it to remind him of her beauty, to try and enchant him. It was obvious that Elaine would have rather had the neighbouring but distant seat next to Arthur rather than being sat opposite him. Nonetheless she gracefully made her way to her chair and sat down. Arthur, too, resumed his seat.  
  
The two cousins were eye to eye for the first time in four years.  
  
“Hello,” Arthur said plainly.  
  
“Hello,” Elaine said with equal plainness.  
  
Arthur couldn’t think of anything sensible to say so he said: “You’ve certainly shot up in the last four years.”  
  
Uther glared at his son.  
  
Elaine smiled, “Through the roof, father says.”  
  
Then Uther relaxed, glad Elaine was not offended but he was still annoyed that Arthur had said such a thing in the first place. He turned to Elaine, “You used to be such a tiny little thing that we were worried you’d barely touch five feet.”  
  
“And now I’ve grown another seven inches!” Elaine chuckled.  
  
Anna smiled, “She was a late blossom, indeed.”  
  
Elaine looked at Morgana. “I believe I’m an inch or two taller than you.”  
  
“I believe you are,” Morgana agreed, finally sitting down.  
  
As Morgana sat down Gawain pulled her chair out and pushed it back in for her before making his way back to his seat. Morgana smiled, “Thank you, Gawain. What a gentleman you are!”  
  
“Just trying to be nice,” Gawain quickly said, as if worried someone might take his actions the wrong way.  
  
“It is still nicer than most of the men at this court,” she told him.  
  
Arthur sighed. “Is that a dig at me?”  
  
“Not you,” Morgana replied, picking up her cup, “Just men in general.”  
  
“Don’t be fooled, Morgana,” Elaine told her before looking cattily at her brother. “He maybe all politeness and smiles to _other_ people’s sisters but he didn’t pull out and push in his _own_ sister’s chair.”  
  
Gawain laughed, “You’d probably accuse me of being patronising if I did!”  
  
“Stop squabbling,” their mother sighed.  
  
Arthur smiled and looked at his cousin. Yes, Elaine was beautiful, _very_ beautiful. He would even admit that there was _no one_ in Camelot more beautiful—but she was a bit too tall for his liking. She was still shorter than him by a good two or three inches but he a specific height in mind for his perfect woman. He glanced at her again. She was very, _very_ blonde; too blonde for Arthur’s liking as he preferred dark hair. And she was too pale, too. Practically _translucent_! He didn’t like pale complexions and didn’t understand why women at court thought having marble skin and red cheeks look attractive. They looked like painted bards with all that blusher!  
  
He stopped and smirked behind a clenched hand; there was nothing wrong with Elaine. He just had a specific type and she wasn’t it. Guinevere was _it_.  
  
“I think it would be wisest to have the treaty signed within the next few days,” Uther suddenly came out, looking directly at Anna.  
  
Arthur and Elaine exchanged looks before looking down the other end of the table at Anna. She sipped her wine and looked up at Uther.  
  
“As you wish,” she said simply. “I don’t see the hurry, though.”  
  
“I’m only trying to accommodate for you, Anna” Uther told his sister-in-law. “I’m perfectly happy to wait until next week.”  
  
Anna looked up. “Then why don’t you? It’s only seven days. It’s not like anything is going to change between now and then, is it?”  
  
The queen placed down her goblet and looked at Arthur.  
  
“Then again a lot can happen in a week,” she conceded, looking at the unreadable expression on her nephew’s face. She quickly looked to Uther, “I think we should use this week to complete the final draft of the treaty, make sure it is perfect...”  
  
Uther picked up his goblet but shrugged at Anna’s suggestion. “Very well, but I don’t see what else we can do to improve it.”  
  
“I’m sure something will come up,” Anna told him.  
  
She looked at Arthur, Gawain and Elaine individually and a small smile spread across her lips. Both her children smirked, and Uther was none the wiser as to what was so funny. Even Arthur had managed to smile.  
  
-  
  
Merlin was preparing to leave the next day with Arthur.  
  
He packed his bag with the important things; blanket, pillow, food and water (and a little wine to keep him warm in the cold autumn). He wasn’t sure how they were going to sneak out of the castle tomorrow without arousing Uther’s suspicion but Arthur had said that he and Gawain had fixed everything. Merlin might have worried about it being Arthur’s plan, but Gawain seemed more on the ball when it came to being cunning.  
  
Merlin smiled; Gawain _knew how to suck up to Uther_.  
  
He glanced over at his table where the cloth he had thrown over the papers there earlier still lay. It is nearly done, he thought. He was then reminded of something. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small piece of paper. He unfolded it and looked at the blurred writing on it. _Yn Cysgu Addoed, Yn Bucheddu Addoed_ ; it was ‘The Invincible Spell’.  
  
He had found it in the medical book that he had cut up for his ‘project’. Of all the books he could have chosen he had been especially drawn to that one... and there hidden between the pages was the dangerous spell that Gaius had warned Merlin so strongly about. It was then that Merlin realised that Gaius had taken it and hidden it. It was obvious to the young warlock that his old friend did not trust him with it.  
  
Merlin decided not to confront Gaius about it; there was no point. He just added it to the list of blows that the old man had struck on him and his trust.  
  
His efforts were wasted, Merlin thought. He slipped the paper back into his magic book and replaced it under the floorboard in his room. The young warlock had _no_ intention on showing this spell to Morgana anyway. Even if he did she probably wouldn’t understand it and certainly wouldn’t be able to use it...  
  
No, it was Gaius’s lack of trust in him that hurt the most. He still thought he was just a foolish boy!  
  
It was hard for Merlin to take both Gaius and the dragon’s warnings against Morgana seriously when both on them continuously manipulated and tricked him themselves. Yes, Merlin expected it from the dragon but he loved Gaius as a father. That’s why it frustrated him so much.  
  
He heard the door open behind him.  
  
Merlin turned, expecting to see Gaius but was surprised to see Morgana standing there. The moment their eyes met a smile passed between them. She walked slowly towards him and he walked towards her, coming out of his room to meet her near Gaius’s workbench. They stood there staring at each other for ten whole seconds before Morgana looked away and laughed.  
  
“What an irony!” she declared amusedly. “We went to all that trouble for weeks trying to find out where Gwen is and Gawain knew all along.”  
  
“You’ve heard then?”  
  
“Gawain told me.”  
  
Merlin smirked. “I guess it is very ironic.”  
  
She looked back at him, her face soft and her smile small but genuine. “It could have saved you a lot of time, not doing that spell.”  
  
“I’m glad we did it, though” Merlin said honestly, a smile appearing across his face too. Suddenly their being together felt more intimate than it should do. He quickly dropped the smile and looked away, “I think you learnt something from the spell, didn’t you.”  
  
“I’m grateful you let me help you,” she said in semi-agreement. There were some parts of the spell that she didn’t understand but she knew the concept and how it worked. That was a good start for a fledgling sorcerer. “I always feel happiest when doing magic with you.”  
  
Merlin smiled again but quickly looked down.  
  
Morgana tilted her head. “I assume you’re going to find Gwen, then?”  
  
“Arthur and I leave tomorrow,” he told her. “Gawain is going to help us sneak out of Camelot, bide us time before Uther and Anna realise that we’ve gone.”  
  
“I wish I could come to.”  
  
“You must say here. Uther will become suspicious if you leave too.”  
  
“I know.”  
  
Merlin glanced behind him at his room where his bag (and project) both were. He then turned back to Morgana and sighed. “When we find Gwen,” he told her softly, “then maybe you should take a trip back to Tintagel.”  
  
Morgana looked at him and smiled sadly, “Uther wouldn’t approve...”  
  
“Since when have you cared what Uther thought?”  
  
“By which I mean that Uther would probably say no,” she told him with a sigh. “It’s very difficult to cross borders between Camelot and Cornwall. I imagine that’s why Uther chose it for Gwen; somewhere so close to save money, but very difficult for Arthur to get to—wait! How are you going to pass the guards at the border?”  
  
“I’m not sure,” Merlin replied honestly. “I’m sure Arthur and Gawain will think of something.”  
  
Morgana scoffed. “Just Gawain, not Arthur—non-military plans have never been Arthur’s strongest point.”  
  
They both laughed. Another moment past; Merlin knew this was wrong, that they were at risk of going back on their earlier promise. They had agreed to be friends and he had promised to keep helping her, but moments like this where they touched each other and laughed freely with each other _had to stop_. Not just because of their magic but because of Uther; they had been lucky that he never followed up earlier suspicions, that he had merely attributed it to hiding Arthur and Gwen’s affair.  
  
Merlin bit his lip. “Morgana...”  
  
“Merlin”  
  
He placed her hands together and hissed. “I think... it is still best if you and I don’t spend so much time with each other. We don’t want to incriminate ourselves.”  
  
Morgana stared at him before nodding slowly and taking a few steps away from him. “Of course, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come here...”  
  
“No, no” he said quickly.  
  
“No, you’re right” she said, stilling in her backing away from him. “It isn’t fair of me to keep... bothering you.”  
  
“No,” he said firmly. “That’s not what I meant. I just want you to be careful.”  
  
Morgana suddenly felt annoyed.  
  
“I _am_ being careful,” she snapped.  
  
She was irritated by repressed feelings and being forced to ignore them. She would freely admit to relying on Merlin an awful lot, but she hated the constant mixed signals he gave her. One moment she felt in awe of his power and fascinated by the things he showed her, and he would seem happen. Then the next moment she would do something to annoy, upset or disappoint him... and he would look at her with that look. The same look he had given her when Arthur nearly died from the questing beast’s bite, the look of disappointment.  
  
“I know you think I’m an idiot without your help, that you don’t trust me to make the right choice...” she went on, now feeling angry.  
  
Morgana trailed off, half expecting Merlin to make some sort of snappy comeback. But he didn’t; Merlin said nothing. That annoyed her even more.  
  
“ _Danu_ below!” she gasped. “You really _do_ think that, don’t you?”  
  
Merlin sighed and looked her in the eyes. “Morgana...”  
  
She really was angry now. “Who the hell are you to think that your way is always better? Who are you to make the difficult decisions? How old are you Merlin, eighteen or nineteen? You’re not yet twenty in any case. You’re so young, but you act like you have weight of the world on your shoulders.”  
  
Merlin sighed. “Do you think it is easy being me?”  
  
“No, but I think you need to settle down more.”  
  
“Ah, settle down” he said with a tint of sarcasm. “That would be lovely. It’s a pity I can’t do that; I never have time to settle down because either I’m running around after Arthur or doing errands for Gaius. The rest of the time I’m trying to help you and work on my own magic. I do all of that while constantly trying to fulfil my destiny—you wouldn’t believe that I have had to do to keep Arthur alive. And being Arthur’s bodyguard leads people of our kind to noticing my gift... do they accept me or leave me alone? No, they try to kill me, and I can’t tell anyone else about my gift because if Uther found out he’d execute me without a second thought.”  
  
Morgana’s face was straight. “Do you think I’m not frightened of that too?”  
  
“Oh yes,” he said, still sarcastic. “It must be so hard for you with your _bad dreams_ and plotting to kill Uther...”  
  
Her eyes widened, “Merlin!  
  
“You’re in a safe place, Morgana” he stressed. “Keep your gift secret and don’t let Uther find out but, even if he did find out, there is still a chance for you... he might spare you. You are in a place beyond suspicion. I’m not.”  
  
Morgana scowled at him, before her face softened again, and she looked up at him again. “Then let me use my position to divert attention from you. Let me help you.”  
  
“That’s why we need to keep our distance,” Merlin told her, his voice now calming down. “To be associated with me, magic wise or not would taint your place in the king’s favour. If that happens then you might not be beyond suspicion. I always have to risk my own life I don’t see why you should risk yours...”  
  
“What’s the point in having magic if I can’t use it?” Morgana asked.  
  
“Magic doesn’t solve everything. I’ve learned that the hard way...”  
  
“If you let me help you,” she went on, not really listening to his murmurs, “then we could achieve great things. If you teach me then maybe, one day, people will come to see magic as a force for good.”  
  
Merlin looked at her in silence. The dragon’s words were hollow in his mind; he couldn’t imagine Morgana ever doing anything to harm him. Yet she had shown she was capable of letting her anger get the better of her, especially in regards to Uther. Merlin knew that he had to keep Morgana close to stop her gift corrupting her, forcing her to seek less honourable influences. There were plenty of renegade sorcerers in Camelot. He couldn’t bear the thought of her falling under their influence. He couldn’t let it happen...  
  
“I’ll never leave you on your own,” Merlin suddenly said. “Whether you see me or not, I’ll always try to help you. I like to think you’d do the same for me.”  
  
“Of course I will!”  
  
Merlin smiled. He didn’t realise just how close Morgana had brought herself to him; she was literally inches away from his face. He moved away and smiled shyly.  
  
“I need to finish packing.”  
  
Morgana began to back away again. “Of course...”  
  
At that point (goodness knew why because they certainly didn’t) in a moment of madness (because it couldn’t have been anything else), they kissed firmly on the lips. They weren’t certain which of them initiated the kiss. Merlin thought it might have been him, but Morgana assumed it had to have been her. It was her last time, after all. But this wasn’t like the last kiss; that had been born out curiosity to find out how strong the magic between them would feel, lip to lip. It had been quite innocent.  
  
But this kiss was hungry.  
  
Morgana had backed herself against a wall (or maybe it was Merlin who had backed her there?) and wrapped her arms around Merlin’s neck to pull him deeper. She felt a groan strangle itself in his throat as he too pulled her closer. They literally felt sparks fly between them, raw power and energy draining itself from their lips. She knew it was wrong kiss him like this after their agreement... but once it had started, they just couldn’t stop.  
  
The kiss was also different because this time Merlin didn’t hold back. He had been caught completely off guard last time, innocent (more or less) to Morgana’s feelings, and she to his. Now, they were fully aware. And he knew he should stop, he knew he had to stop. But just like her, he found that he couldn’t. They might have kissed forever and they would never have thought to stop for longer than a few seconds.  
  
The front door opened and Gaius walked in.  
  
“ _Merlin_ ,” he called.  
  
It startled them. Morgana threw Merlin back, propelling him against the other wall as he also moved to back away from her.  
  
They sheepishly turned their heads to meet Gaius’s eyes. He had seen it. He stood there with the dreaded disapproving eyebrow of doom. It was all he could think to do in those few seconds as he had been confronted with his worst fear; actual proof that Merlin and Morgana had become too close. It made his stomach tighten with worry.  
  
“Morgana,” he said, looking to the dumbstruck woman.  
  
Morgana knew he wanted her to go, no doubt to reprimand Merlin. She glanced over at Merlin, who returned her look. She stepped closer to him again and whispered, gently _‘Bring her back’_ , before turning quickly to march out of the room, passing Gaius in the process.  
  
Gaius’s eyes followed her out the room, but he never turned his head away from facing Merlin. Once the door closed and she was gone he turned his attention fully to the young warlock.  
  
“Merlin,” he began with caution.  
  
“Leave it, Gaius” Merlin said firmly, and returned to his room.  
  
He quickly went back to packing his bag, knowing that Gaius would follow him to confront him about the kiss... or even coax out of him the reason for why he was packing a bag. Either way Merlin knew he was going to lose his temper; he suspected that Gaius had lied about Gwen again, too.  
  
As he predicted Gaius opened the door to his room and stepped in.  
  
His voice was furious, “Merlin how could you be so foolish?”  
  
“I don’t know what you mean.”  
  
“You and Morgana,” the old man said. “You promised me that nothing would ever happen between the two of you.”  
  
“And nothing has.”  
  
“You kissed her, Merlin.”  
  
He looked away, “It doesn’t mean anything has happened.”  
  
“But it _will_ happen at the rate you’re going,” Gaius warned him.  
  
“It won’t!” Merlin argued back. “I have the situation under control. Morgana and I promised each other just this afternoon that nothing would happen between us; that we’d be friends and that is all!”  
  
“And that promise lasted, what _four or five hours_?”  
  
Merlin looked down at his bag dolefully, not wanting to look Gaius in the face. “I know it was a mistake...”  
  
“And one day one of your mistakes will go too far,” Gaius went on, trying to stress his point. “I mean it, Merlin. It is not for what the dragon said that I warn you against this, it is Uther. If he ever found _he would kill you_. Never mind your use of magic.”  
  
He slammed his bag down. “Do you really think I lack any self-control?”  
  
Gaius paused a moment, biting his bottom lip to try and disguise his worry from Merlin. His tone became more relaxed and careful, “It’s not that I don’t trust you, Merlin. I just fear that your desire for a companion like yourself will influence you from making the right decision.”  
  
Merlin took a deep breath to calm down too. He closed his eyes and sighed, “I need to make my own choice, Gaius. If I need your help I will ask you but... you need to let me make my own decision, and if it’s wrong then that’ll be on my head.”  
  
“It’s your head I’m worried about.”  
  
Merlin turned back to his bag. “I’ll probably be thrown away in the dungeons for this anyway knowing my luck...”  
  
Gaius finally spotted the bag. “Where are you going?”  
  
“Away,” he said, not knowing whether to say anything or not. When it came to Gwen he knew not to trust Gaius anymore, else he might inform Uther of their plans. “Arthur and Gawain are going for a ride tomorrow and I’m going too.”  
  
Gaius raised an eyebrow. “You seem to be packing for every eventuality.”  
  
“Well, you never know what might happen.”  
  
There was a long pause as Gaius just stood and watched Merlin putting the last things in his bag and closing it. The young warlock looked up at him, “What is it?”  
  
“You’re going to find Gwen, aren’t you?”  
  
Merlin said nothing.  
  
“I know you used a finding spell in here because the chalk marks can still be seen on the floor,” Gaius told him. “You need to wipe it completely down with water, not just rub it off.”  
  
“Fine,” the young man said, but refused to talk anymore.  
  
“Merlin”  
  
“ _Merlin, Merlin_ , _Merlin_ ” the boy groaned with annoyance. “Stop bleating my name like that, Gaius! Yes, I did try to find Gwen with a spell. I’ve been trying since she was exiled but I failed. I keep failing because Uther has locked away everything that belongs to her in the castle vaults...”  
  
He was lying, but Gaius couldn’t prove otherwise. Merlin hated lying to Gaius, but he was doing nothing that the old man hadn’t done to him. He had lied about the sleeping draught.  
  
Merlin sighed. “Arthur is feeling depressed about having to marry Elaine. Gawain knows this; they’re just going riding for the day and I’m going with them. That’s it.”  
  
Gaius folded his arms. “You’re lying, Merlin.”  
  
Merlin placed his bag near the door of his room and looked Gaius dead in the eyes. He then looked away from Gaius and placed his hand on the door handle.  
  
“So are you,” he whispered. “I have some work to do.”  
  
It hurt how cold and distant Merlin was being to Gaius. They both hated, but to coax the truth out of him would lead to awkwardness. Merlin couldn’t trust Gaius not to tell Uther anymore, and Gaius knew that Merlin wouldn’t believe him when he said that he would not tell anyone.  
  
He took Merlin’s hint and turned around to exit the room. The door closed behind him but Gaius did not look back, as he was tempted to do. Instead he walked to his work bench and tried to distract himself by making Queen Anna and Princess Elaine’s remedies for that night. Anna had requested that Elaine’s be made stronger; _the girl must have grown in power since she was last in Camelot_. In many ways Gaius hoped the marriage between Arthur and Elaine would still be blocked, for Elaine’s sake as much as Arthur’s.  
  
Gaius heard Merlin pacing around his room.  
  
He placed the potion bottle down and sighed. He hoped Arthur and Merlin were going to find Gwen. He hoped that they’d bring her back, and he hoped that the girl would find it in her heart to forgive him for the role he had played in her exile... but God he feared what Uther would do if Gwen returned to Camelot, especially with Anna here.  
  
Suddenly Gaius’s mind changed course as he began to think about Merlin and Morgana again. All he could hear were the dragon’s warnings in his head, warning him of the disaster that she would bring to Merlin. And he felt an ominous sensation wash over him.


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur, Merlin and Gawain rose early the next morning.  
  
It was _painfully_ early. Merlin’s head hurt as he dragged himself out of bed and dressed himself. It had hurt especially because he had worked late into the night and hadn’t got much sleep. But it had been worth it; his project sat on his table, written, bound and ready to deliver. When he finally felt awake enough to drag himself from his room he went into the main living area. Typically Gaius was already awake and had prepared his breakfast for him.  
  
“I also made you a sandwich,” the old man said, handing a carefully wrapped bundle to him. “You might get hungry later.”  
  
Merlin looked at Gaius and smiled faintly. “Thank you.”  
  
“Can’t have you going hungry,” the old man told him, “Especially since you don’t know how long it’ll be, until you get back.”  
  
Merlin knew that Gaius had guessed where he was going, but for the first time in weeks he felt compelled to trust his friend not tell Uther they were going. The young warlock suspected that Gaius knew for a while where Gwen was but had been bound to secrecy; now that she was about to be discovered, it was a welcome release to the poor old man. He hated being caught between his duty to the king and his loyalty to Merlin.  
  
“Be careful,” Gaius told him.  
  
“I will.” Merlin did not object when Gaius then embraced him. He was glad.  
  
Elsewhere in the castle Gawain had packed everything up and was trying to leave his chambers quietly so not to wake his mother or sister next door. He knew that the medicine that Gaius gave them both for their hallucinations would help them, not to mention the sleeping draughts they were now taking. As he pulled his sword on he wondered why, after so many years of the hallucinations and ‘visions’ appearing in day not night, should they started to have these strange dreams. He knew his little sisters suffered from it too, which upset him as they were just children. Anna and Elaine had learned to cope with their affliction.  
  
Gawain swallowed; he wasn’t sure if he wanted to have children, especially daughters. His mother told him that there was every chance this ‘ability’ would keep spreading through the female line, even through the men.  
  
He closed the door quietly and hurried down the corridors to meet his appointment.  
  
Gawain had told Arthur and Merlin to meet him by the front entrance. He had also told them that he would fetch the horses so as not to arouse too much suspicion from Uther. It would look better if it seemed that Gawain had planned this ‘day out’ rather than Arthur.  
  
On his way down to the courtyard he was lucky enough to run into Merlin before they reached where they had arranged to meet Arthur. The servant was just coming away from where Morgana’s chambers were. He was carrying both his things and Arthur’s; Gawain took one of the bags to give him a hand. “Do you mind helping me with the horses?” he then added.  
  
Merlin shook his head. “It’s normally my job anyway.”  
  
Once they reached the shelter of the stables and began to saddle the horses, Gawain took the opportunity to ask Merlin about the dreams. The young prince had thought to ask Merlin about it before; he wasn’t sure why he thought the boy would know. But it was worth a try.  
  
Merlin’s eyes widened. “Your sister has had them too?”  
  
“So they are occurring in people with ‘the gift’?” Gawain asked. The young warlock looked down, uncomfortable to talk about this with a crowned prince, even if Gawain wasn’t accountable to Uther. Gawain rolled his eyes, “You can trust me, Merlin. I can’t rat you out without betraying my sister, and I won’t let any harm come to her. Besides, I wouldn’t tell anyone about you anyway. My mother raised me not to share Uther’s views on magic, though I keep that from my father and uncle.”  
  
It was said (though not out loud) that Anna had helped those who used magic flee Camelot in the old days and escape into the north where the Picts still practised the old religion. Even Lot didn’t know about this (If it was true) and would no doubt reprimand his queen if he ever did find out (If it was true).  
  
Merlin leaned forward. “At first it was just Morgana having the dreams... but then I started to get them too. Gaius says it’s called ‘the future scream’, a collective echo that affects people with a gift. It is supposed to be an omen.”  
  
“For what, I wonder.”  
  
“The war,” Merlin explained as they led the horses out. He recalled to Gawain everything that the dragon had told him (not mentioning that it had been the dragon that told him) and some of the details of the dream. “This is going to be the greatest war of all, and it is our duty to unite Arthur with Gwen before it starts... why I don’t know.”  
  
Gawain nodded. “That’s why Elaine was so determined to avoid marrying Arthur; she’s been having this dream for a while now and my younger sisters too though not as badly. Mother said Elaine was always more powerful.”  
  
Merlin chuckled. “I thought Morgana and I were the only ones...”  
  
“And you say it’s supposed to be an omen of things to come?”  
  
“Yes, although there are some things that Morgana and I keep seeing that don’t make sense.”  
  
“Like what?”  
  
“Well, there is this woman sitting by a window...”  
  
“You mean my mother?”  
  
Merlin stopped, “Sorry, what?”  
  
Gawain stopped to, “Elaine said that she saw mother sitting by a window in her dreams.”  
  
“This was a much younger woman, about Elaine’s age.”  
  
“Yes,” the prince said, getting a little bit frustrated trying to explain something that he himself had not seen. “My sister said that she saw mother when she was younger sitting by a window and looking out of it. Then she saw the other young woman, dark and pretty. It sounded like Gwen she was describing.”  
  
Merlin pointed at him. “That’s it! That’s definitely her—that’s what Morgana and I have been seeing. Why would we see your mother in a dream?”  
  
Gawain shrugged. “I’m no expert in ‘the gift’, Merlin. My mother tried to see into Elaine’s mind, because mother never saw herself in her dreams, just Gwen. But when she tried to see what Elaine saw, it blocked her.”  
  
“That’s what happened to me,” Merlin jumped in. “I tried to do the same with Morgana when she saw me in her dreams. Gaius said that no one can see their own destinies.”  
  
The prince nodded. “However mother did say in the dream she remembered being young, looking out the window of Camelot and seeing sorcerers being brought in for trial. This was just before she left for Eidin to marry my father. I promise you Merlin, the woman you keep seeing is my mother.”  
  
“I can’t imagine the queen likes to admit to using magic when her brother-in-law outlawed it so violently,” Merlin mused.  
  
“Mother says that the gift in our family is not magic,” Gawain corrected the young servant. “She says it is a sixth sense. None of the women in our family have ever been strong enough to use magic.”  
  
Merlin dared to ask the question he couldn’t bring himself to ask Gaius. “Was your mother the only woman of her generation to... have this ability?”  
  
Gawain tilted his head. “Are you asking what I think you’re asking?”  
  
The boy shrugged. “What do you think I’m asking?”  
  
The prince turned around again and walked on, knowing that they would have to meet with Arthur soon. They wanted to get a head start.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Merlin said quietly. “I have no right to ask you such questions.”  
  
Gawain laughed. “Arthur said you were different from other servants, and I see now he was right. It’s strange but I already feel I can trust you, Merlin. You seem like a chap that has the weight of the world on his shoulders.”  
  
Merlin sighed; his words echoed Morgana’s words earlier. “Let’s just say it’s not easy being me.”  
  
“I bet it isn’t,” Gawain smiled. There was a long pause before he finally said; “And the answer is no. The gift has affected _all_ the women in the family one way or the other going back generations. My mother had it the worst, though.”  
  
Merlin didn’t have time to think about a response. They reached the front entrance where they had arranged to meet.  
  
Arthur was already waiting there; awake and eager to go in contrast to both Merlin and Gawain, who still seemed tired. He lacked any sympathy for them and he swiftly snatched the reigns of his horse and mounted.  
  
“You two really aren’t morning people, are you?” he commented, watching impatiently as the two younger men mounted their horses too. “We want to get a head start else my father will wonder why we’ve been gone so long.”  
  
Merlin swung his leg over the horse. “Are you sure the queen won’t grow suspicious?”  
  
Both Arthur and Gawain smiled. “I think we’ll be alright, Merlin” Gawain assured him.  
  
The young servant rolled his eyes. “You haven’t even told me where we are going or how we’re going to get there yet.”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes too and rode on ahead. Gawain turned back to Merlin, still smiling. “Don’t worry, Merlin. It’ll all become clear soon.”  
  
Merlin leaned over to him. “I just don’t understand why you and Arthur don’t tell me. I maybe a servant but I’m not going to blabber it right here in the courtyard.”  
  
The two young men rode off to try and catch up with Arthur, who was already well ahead of them on the road. Once they had finally caught up they continued to ride a little while longer at a fast pace until the citadel was out of their sight, hidden behind the trees and long in the distance. Finally Arthur slowed down and Merlin and Gawain with him.  
  
Gawain turned to Merlin again. “You shouldn’t take our secrecy personally, Merlin. I fear I am my mother’s son—I love to play games and see if the people around me can figure it out. It’s in the Dubois blood, I’m afraid.”  
  
Merlin raised an eyebrow, “To be crafty?”  
  
Arthur and Gawain both chuckled. “I like this one, Arthur” Gawain declared. “He doesn’t feel the need to kiss feet, does he? Not like your last manservant.”  
  
“Gregory is better off with Percival,” Merlin remarked. “Percival doesn’t _abuse_ him all the time.”  
  
Gawain laughed at looked to Arthur as he responded.  
  
“Are you saying I abuse you?” Arthur asked, knowing the answer already.  
  
“I’m just saying that Gregory is better off with a master that takes the softer approach to his menservants,” Merlin declared. He then turned to Gawain, “That’s how I met him, while he was throwing knives at Gregory.”  
  
There came another bout of laughter from the younger prince. The servant liked how cheerful Gawain was and thought him nice company, not just for Arthur but for himself. He was a positive influence.  
  
He leaned over to whisper in Merlin’s ear. “The only reason he picked on servants was because he used to be small for his age.”  
  
Merlin’s eyes widened. “Was Arthur ever small? I can’t imagine him ever being little. I always imagine him bulky and brawny.”  
  
“He only really shot up when he was fourteen or there about,” Gawain said. “And I can’t laugh about that because I was the same. It helped Arthur a lot because he had to work hard to match up and overcome the other boys of his age. Once he got into that habit he never stopped...”  
  
“So what has that got to do with picking on servants?”  
  
“When Arthur was younger, like seven or eight, and Morgana first came to Camelot she used to tease him and bully him a lot. He couldn’t answer back because else his father would punish him. He couldn’t fight back either; not only because it is wrong to fight a girl but at ten years old she was twice his size anyway! The servants were the only people Arthur could take his frustration out on.”  
  
“Oi” Arthur called back to them, “Stop gossiping like two old ladies, _especially_ if you’re talking about me!”  
  
They two younger men laughed again.  
  
“We were talking _about_ you,” Gawain said teasingly. “Not _at_ you!”  
  
-  
  
It was still early in the morning when the castle of Tintagel was woken up by the arrival of Dáithí, the messenger.  
  
He had had a rough journey befitting any Orcadian messenger renowned for being swift, never stopping once between Camelot and the water passage between Tintagel and the mainland. With his special declaration from his master Prince Gawain he was able to bypass both the Camelonian and Cornish guards. He and his equally tired horse had travelled miles of road, miles of non-road and been on two ferries, and they were practically dead when they reached the door of Tintagel Castle.  
  
Dáithí slammed desperately on the large wooden door to alert whoever was inside that he was there. He continued to slam for another ten minutes until one of the grooms within the castle walls finally felt bothered enough to drag himself from his last half an hour in bed to let whoever it was in.  
  
He picked up a torch and grumbled as he walked to the door. “ _Danu_ , take me! Alright, alright I’m coming I’m coming so stop banging you little sod.”  
  
Instead of opening the door he opened the small viewing door and looked out into the darkness to see who the banger was. Dáithí looked up tiredly. “Let me in, I have an important message!” he told the groom.  
  
“Do you know what time it is, son?”  
  
“It’s the sixth hour,” Dáithí replied.  
  
“No it’s the fifth and a half _bloody_ hour,” the old groom grunted back. “The Duke of Cornwall is in bed, which is where I was a few moments ago. What’s the message?”  
  
Dáithí produced the letter. “I’m sorry, sir. I was given clear instructions not to stop until I have personally delivered this letter to the Duke of Cornwall, although it is addressed to his charge.”  
  
The groom’s ears sparked up, “His charge? You know she’s not supposed to receive letters from anyone outside of Tintagel. Who is the message from? Who is your master?”  
  
Dáithí was tired and desperate to sit down in the warm. “I don’t know who the message is from specifically only that I should not stop until it is delivered. My master is Prince Gawain of Orkney and Gododdin,” he then reached for his belt and handed the groom his dispensation of free passage, “I have been granted free movement over the Tamar border by my master and yours.”  
  
The groom looked at the piece of paper before sighing, closing the small door and stepping down to unbolt the actual door. Dáithí heard the groom unbolt all the locks and finally open it with a grunt and loud whine. He was so glad to be let in.  
  
“The famed hospitality of the Duke is true then,” he muttered as he stepped in.  
  
The groom shot him a fierce look. “I know you’ve had a rough twenty four hour, boy. But don’t insult my master until his roof. Got it? This is Cador’s duchy now, not poxy Camelot or Eidin, alright?”  
  
Dáithí was taken aback. “Alright, yes I’m sorry.”  
  
The groom stepped back. “Good. Come on, your banging has woken up half the castle so I wouldn’t be surprised if Jermyn is already there to meet you when we get in.”  
  
He led Dáithí across the courtyard while several other grooms saw to his tired horse. Once inside he was left to wait in the hall while the groom wandered off to find somebody. While he was gone that was when Ysgyrdav came down the stairs to see what the commotion was about. She stopped half way down, keeping her distance from this strange youth.  
  
“Who on earth are you?” she said in her typical ‘old mother’ way. “You damn near woke both my mistress _and_ the master. Not to mention my children; they have a hard day’s work ahead of them and they don’t need you pushy messengers dragging them from what little sleep they get.”  
  
Dáithí didn’t know what to say. “I-I’m sorry madam. I was just following orders...”  
  
“Damn messengers,” she continued to grumble until she reached the bottom of the stairs. “I have eleven children, you know!”  
  
“N-no, I didn’t know,” the boy replied with embarrassment, “Um, congratulations?”  
  
“Eight of them still work in this castle,” she told him. “All of them risk losing sleep because of you, and don’t get me started about my poor mistress. That girl has enough troubles without you ruining her sleep. It’s taken me the best part of two weeks to convince her she doesn’t have to get up at _dawn break_ for heaven’s sake!”  
  
“I-I’m sorry, ma’am...”  
  
“You messengers have been swamping this place, and the news readers? _Oh_ —don’t get me started on them,” she rattled on. She shook her head, “Oh that poor girl—when news arrived from one of Queen Anna’s spies that she and her daughter had arrived in Camelot and the marriage between that girl and Uther’s son was imminently expected, good God! The poor thing couldn’t be comforted. Didn’t come out of her room all day.”  
  
The old woman was clearly tired too. At that moment the groom came back with Jermyn who _had_ managed to sleep through the banging. The groom returned to his home for an early breakfast while Cador’s manservant turned to Dáithí. “I understand you have a message... from Prince Gawain?”  
  
“I was ordered to bring it straight here” Dáithí explained again, so very tired after all his travelling. “It is for the Duke’s charge.”  
  
“I’m sure it is,” Jermyn said, uninterested. “I will take this message to the Duke. You understand that the Mistress Guinevere is in exile here so all her letters must be read before they are passed on to her.”  
  
Dáithí didn’t care anymore; it had nothing to do with him, “Of course, sir.”  
  
Jermyn looked to some passing servants also knocked out of their sleep by the banging. “See to it that this man is fed and is given a bed to rest.”  
  
The servants obeyed and both Jermyn and Ysgyrdav turned around to ascend the stairs towards Cador’s chambers. They were not looking forward to waking him up.  
  
“Why would Prince Gawain be sending a message to Guinevere?” Ysgyrdav asked once they reached the top. “I mean we’ve had messengers from Eidin troll in and out of here for months now but—”  
  
“I doubt it is actually from Gawain,” Jermyn told the older woman. “I imagine it is from his cousin; the prince, his mother and sister are all in Camelot at the moment after all.”  
  
“Prince Arthur,” Ysgyrdav gasped. “So he knows where Guinevere is?”  
  
“Quite possible,” he said quickly as he knocked at Cador’s door and walked in upon hearing a muffled ‘Enter’ from within. He walked in to find Cador lighting a candle; the banging had obviously awoken him. “It was a messenger from Prince Gawain, your grace.”  
  
Cador smiled slightly and nodded. “I thought it might be.”  
  
He held out his hand for the letter and Jermyn handed it to him. The duke glanced at Ysgyrdav who stood at the door still, waiting to see if the letter might be passed on to her mistress. Cador looked over the paper and turned it over to see the seal. He smiled.  
  
“Clever. Sending an Orcadian messenger here with a letter ensured that he would not be searched at the border by Uther’s guards,” he looked to Jermyn. “I assume he used the special dispensation I signed for Gawain, the one that Anna asked for?”  
  
“Yes, your grace.”  
  
Cador turned the letter over and showed Jermyn the seal.  
  
“It is the Pendragon, alright” he declared. “And the stationary is obviously Camelonian. They use a different formula to those used in Eidin; the paper isn’t as bumpy.”  
  
He motioned Ysgyrdav in and handed the letter to her.  
  
“Take this to Gwen and let her read it immediately,” he told her.  
  
Ysgyrdav and Jermyn looked at each other. “Are you sure that is wise, Cador?” Jermyn asked, slipping into informality.  
  
“Yes, I’m quite sure,” he told the pair pleasantly. Cador then slipped back into bed, “Now I’d like to get a few more hours of sleep before breakfast. I would like breakfast early, though. Let cook know, would you Jermyn? Oh, and have Gwen come too. I shall need to speak with her after this.”  
  
“Y-yes, your grace” Jermyn said, confused.  
  
The two then left the room and went their separate ways as Ysgyrdav went back to Gwen’s chamber where she was still sleeping. The old woman didn’t want to wake the girl who thankfully had drifted off back to sleep once the banging had stopped. But she had to follow Cador’s orders. She lit the candle beside the bed and gently shook Gwen’s arm until she groaned and opened her eyes.  
  
“Ysgyrdav,” Gwen said in confusion. “What time is it?”  
  
“It is still early,” the old woman admitted.  
  
She helped Gwen sit up by tucking a pillow behind her back. Gwen had got used to being cared for by Ysgyrdav. She viewed it more as the care of an over attentive mother than a servant waiting on a mistress.  
  
“What was that banging?” Gwen then asked, not realising how short a time ago it was since it had briefly awoken her. “It must have been urgent.”  
  
“It wasn’t that important,” the old woman said, and looked down at the letter in her hand. “It was a messenger.”  
  
“At this hour? Cador can’t have been pleased,” Gwen remarked, rubbing her eyes.  
  
Ysgyrdav sighed and held the letter in front of Gwen’s face. She looked at it, yawned and took hold of it. “It was a letter... for you.”  
  
“It’s still sealed,” she noted. “Did you take it Cador before you gave it to me because—?”  
  
“Yes, he told me to give it straight to you.”  
  
Gwen took the letter and Ysgyrdav immediately made off to one side, trying to find work to occupy her. As she did she muttered, “And the duke requests your presence at breakfast today. It’ll be an early one, about eight.”  
  
“I’m an early bird,” Gwen told her, before looking properly at the letter. “I think I’ll make it on time. Now I’m awake again I doubt I’ll get back to—”  
  
Her voice trailed off as she turned the letter over and saw the seal. She then quickly looked up, not knowing what to think before looking down again. The seal—Cador had to have seen _the seal_. It was the Pendragon; more specifically it was Arthur’s individual seal. She would recognise it anywhere. She had twisted that ring on his finger plenty of times.  
  
Gwen glanced coyly at Ysgyrdav who in turn looked back to her mistress curiously. She turned away in her bed and peeled apart the seal to open the letter. She wanted to tear it open but for some reason she felt weary of the old woman watching her. Arthur had written her a letter and knew where she was. It sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn’t read the words fast enough.  
  
At first she was surprised at how short it was; in the past Arthur had been in his element writing his feelings for her in letters. A part of Gwen worried that this was a farewell letter. When news came from one of Cador’s informants (as he called them) that talks were supposedly already beginning for Arthur’s marriage to Elaine and was thought to be taking place within the next few months, Gwen had felt like someone had ripped out her heart and made her swallow it.  
  
She read it slowly, prepared for pity and apologises:  
  


_Guinevere – I am sorry that this is so brief but it is important that I get this message to you now. I want you to know that I still love you. I think about you constantly. I never stopped thinking about you and wondering whether you are safe. If I were to tell you how much it has hurt to be without you and how much I love you, this letter would be pages long and the messenger will never get this to you in time. There are arrangements in place. At the moment you are reading this I am making my way to Tor, the neutral ground close to Camelot and Cornwall. Meet me there by the end of the week—_ (That’s tomorrow, Gwen panicked) _—and I’ll explain everything. – Arthur_

  
Gwen put the letter down. She held her breath unintentionally for ages before she let it go and took several quick breaths in succession. _He still loved her!_  
  
That was a relief; it made Gwen want to scream with happiness after all the worrying but... another part of her felt angry. He made it sound as if she could just take a brisk walk down the road and reach Tor without a hitch. She could easily get there by tomorrow if she had right of movement _but she didn’t_. Regardless of Cador’s kindness towards her, treating her more like a daughter than a prisoner, he was still her gaoler.  
  
She was an exile.  
  
Her head slammed against the pillows and she clutched the letter to her. She wondered how on earth she was going to get away from Tintagel without a valid reason. _There was no reason she could give to Cador_. She felt she could definitely convince him to let her go to the mainland, but there would be grooms and Cornish guards with her constantly. Even if she managed to escape them, what then? She wondered if she could persuade the guards to let her go—but that was silly. Besides she hated the idea of offending Cador. There was a good chance he would never forgive her if she tried to ‘escape’ after how kind he had been to her. But then again, surely he knew something was up? Cador would probably be suspicious if Gwen suddenly felt an impulse to leave the island no matter how she tried to dress it up.  
  
Fach jumped up onto the bed; Ysgyrdav shooed her off, but Gwen told her to leave the dog as she didn’t mind her little pet’s company. The dog settled herself at the bottom of the bed.  
  
Never once did Gwen think of giving up trying to find a way of getting away from Tintagel to Tor. She wouldn’t let herself give up. She didn’t know how but she was going to meet Arthur tomorrow. She didn’t know whether it would be the last chance, or whether their might be a glimmer of hope... she didn’t want to get her hopes up but she couldn’t help it.  
  
Gwen pondered for another hour before Ysgyrdav laid out some clothes for her. After she dressed she slowly made her way downstairs to meet Cador. She kept her letter tucked in the pocket of her dress. Her eyes were open for any excuse to get off the island. As she walked into the dining room and saw Cador already sitting at the table, she felt bad. She didn’t want to deceive him... but.  
  
“Good morning,” the duke said with a smile. “Did you sleep well?”  
  
She just nodded and sat down.  
  
“I thought the banging would have woken you.”  
  
“Not really,” Gwen said softly, eyeing the bread and cheese and various other things. She had no appetite. She was too consumed by her own thoughts. “That is I heard it but it didn’t bother me much.”  
  
“Did you get the letter?”  
  
“Letter...”  
  
“The one that came for you,” he said, playing it as if it didn’t matter. “I told Ysgyrdav to give it to you.”  
  
“Oh,” she said blushing. “Yes.”  
  
Cador nodded and continued to eat. His manner was confusing Gwen and she didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. It was as if he knew where the letter had come from but was trying to play it ignorant. Maybe he thought this was supposed to restore some hope to her? Either way it hurt her more than it amused her. He hadn’t seen the letter.  
  
Gwen knew she had to take her chance now, and hope that if she was caught out Cador would forgive her.  
  
“Your grace, I—”  
  
“Was there anything interesting in the letter?” he suddenly asked.  
  
“It was... just a letter. Only one I could appreciate.”  
  
Cador took a swig of wine. “I’m sure it was.”  
  
The silence continued another moment before Gwen thought to speak but Cador interrupted again.  
  
“You are probably wondering why I asked to see you so early in the morning,” he said, putting his cup down.  
  
“I wasn’t wondering about it at all,” Gwen replied honestly, “Although it is a little unusual for you to be up and about so early in the morning.”  
  
He folded his arms and leaned closer to her. “How do you fancy a trip?”  
  
She stared at him. “I’m sorry?”  
  
Gwen wasn’t sure if she had heard correctly. On the one hand she was being offered a chance to escape without even having to open her mouth but on the other it all relied on where Cador was planning on going. If he actually ended up going; Cador hadn’t left Tintagel in years.  
  
“A trip to the mainland,” Cador went on. He was amused by Gwen’s perplexed face and leaned back in his chair as he began his story. “Since you have been here I have realised... how closed off I have been from the rest of the world. It is time that I... got out more and saw Cornwall for myself again.”  
  
Her heart sank. How could she run off after he said _that_?  
  
“So you wish to visit parts of Cornwall?” she said, trying not to sound crestfallen.  
  
“In time yes” Cador said with honesty. “But... first I have something that I really need to do. Do you remember the legend of Eluned that I told you?”  
  
Gwen nodded.  
  
“Well” he went on, a smile creeping up across his face, “if you remember she was responsible for building several chapels, including to one here on Tintagel. I go there on her feast day every August. However, before I ‘reintroduce’ myself into society again I would very much like to visit the largest chapel she helped to build in the mainland.”  
  
Gwen made her sad smile that Cador knew so well. “You wish us to go on a pilgrimage to the chapel?”  
  
“If you don’t mind,” he said earnestly. “I was hoping we could leave this morning. I have a particular favourite subject that I haven’t visited the house of for the last thirteen years that we and our party can pay visit to on the way. He lives right on the border. We could get to the chapel tomorrow morning.”  
  
“Of course, but...”  
  
“But...?”  
  
Gwen was about to try and make an excuse. She briefly wondered whether she could escape while Cador wasn’t at Tintagel. But she knew that if she said she didn’t want to go he would probably decide not to go either. She sighed and shook her head. “Nothing... what is the name of this chapel?”  
  
He took a moment to answer, filling his slowness with another drink.  
  
“It is the one built in honour of Saint Michael...” he began to explain but trailed off as Jermyn walked into the room. The servant nodded his head in respect to both of them. Cador jumped out of his seat excitedly to address his servant. “Old friend, I was just telling Gwen about my plans and I want you to hear it too. We going on a pilgrimage to Saint Michael’s chapel at Tor.”  
  
Gwen’s head shot up to look at him.  
  
Jermyn simply stared at him. “Y-you wish to travel to Tor? I mean, you wish to _leave_ Tintagel for a pilgrimage to Saint Michael’s... _at Tor_?!”  
  
“What is that so strange?” Cador asked.  
  
“The fact you haven’t left this island in the last twelve or springs to mind,” the servant replied.  
  
Cador just laughed; Gwen and Jermyn looked at him as if he had gone mad.  
  
“I’m serious!” Jermyn shouted over Cador’s joy. “You felt shaken after just going down to the beach the other day... how the hell do you expect to fair going all the way to Dumnonia, _and all for a pilgrimage_?!”  
  
“Not just for a pilgrimage,” the duke replied, pointing his finger in the air as he walked back to his seat. He was like an investigator making a valuable point. “I happen to have a very important meeting there.”  
  
Jermyn stared at him, “At Tor?”  
  
“That’s where I shall be meeting them,” Cador explained. He looked to an equally perplexed Guinevere, who by this point was just staring at him with her dark eyes wider than he’d ever seen them. “I expect we shall come back here for hold the actual meeting since we aren’t that far away from the sacred land... so make sure that the castle is dusted down, would you?”  
  
“Y-yes, my lord but,” Jermyn said again, “how do you expect to get to Tor in one piece when you haven’t been outside since... well, a long time.”  
  
“I’m not a glass vase,” Cador snapped back. “I’m not going to break the moment I get on a horse or a boat or try to stagger through the apple orchids and up the hills of Tor. Besides Guinevere will be with me and so will you...”  
  
Jermyn’s eyes went wider, if that were possible. “Me? I-I mean, I’m coming too? But how am I going to organise the castle if I’m with you?”  
  
“You’re asking a lot of questions today, Jermyn” the duke chuckled, glancing towards Gwen who now seemed off in her own world. He looked back at his servant, “I meant you can give Ysgyrdav to marshal the young servants, get them all working together to get this place looking neat—a quarter of them are her children anyway!”  
  
Jermyn sighed and looked to Gwen, and she smiled at him with equal beguilement. The servant nodded, “Yes, your grace.”  
  
“Good,” Cador replied. “Just get them to get all the rooms in shape and fancy them up a bit. I know, put some flowers in them or something. If there is any clutter just put it in the store room.”  
  
Gwen couldn’t help laughing at that. The store room of Tintagel was a gloriously giant hall that rather than being used for meetings and debates with all the barons of Cornwall was filled with old tat that the duke couldn’t be bothered to get rid of. There were chock loads of gold, silver and tin that easily could be melted down into things more useful; chests of papers and books, stocks of paintings and a giant round table that seemed to take up half the room. All of it forgotten and _bloody useless_!  
  
“Yes, your grace” Jermyn said.  
  
“Perfect,” Cador said. “Now go and tell the grooms and the ferry man that we are planning to leave this afternoon.”  
  
“You’re going now?!”  
  
“Yes, now off with you.”  
  
Cador said it in a comical and humorous way that wasn’t meant to be taken badly. Jermyn shook his head and left the duke alone with his charge. Gwen still remained silent even as Cador jumped out of his seat again and threw on his fur coat that had been resting over his chair.  
  
“You’d better tell Ysgyrdav to help you get ready,” Cador told her. “You’ll catch your death if you travel in that blue day dress. She better help you gather some of your things together too—”  
  
“How did you know?” Gwen asked suddenly, interrupting him.  
  
“Know what?”  
  
“You know what,” she said, looking up at him. Cador couldn’t help thinking how pretty she looked when she was confused. “How did you know about...? You must have known somehow!”  
  
Gwen pulled the letter out of her pocket.  
  
“This letter wasn’t opened,” she said softly, caressing the seal she herself had broken. “So how did you know?”  
  
Cador sighed, and straightened out his coat. “It’s a long story, Gwen.”  
  
She sat still, making no attempt to move.  
  
He sighed. “A long story that is best told later, not now. If we don’t leave in the next hour or so we’ll lose the tide.”  
  
Gwen sighed. She slid to her feet and walked to the door, but stopped and turned back to look at him. “You will tell me though, won’t you? I feel as though I’m the only one that doesn’t know what’s going on.”  
  
“Good, so the letter didn’t rattle on to much?” Cador joked, but Gwen was not laughing. He cleared his throat and nodded, “Gwen, I have all day and all night and all of tomorrow morning to tell you...”  
  
He then stopped thoughtfully.  
  
“But... I don’t think it needs explaining. I genuinely want to go on this pilgrimage. If you really want to know then I promise at some point I will tell you. Yet I don’t think you care that much, do you?”  
  
And the truth was, she didn’t. She was going to Tor, and that was all she cared about. She didn’t care about Cador’s motives or even how he knew. At least not yet—one day she might care enough to raise the subject again.  
  
“Not really,” she admitted.  
  
“In that case, _please go and get ready now!_ ”  
  
Gwen shot off through the door and up the stairs like a child that had been given orders by her father. In some ways Cador did remind her of her father; it didn’t hurt as she would have thought it might to meet someone so like him – a man cheerful even when he was sad and _always_ making bad jokes as well as a few good ones. It felt pleasant. She didn’t realise how much she had missed having a father-figure.  
  
She would ask him about this trip to Tor, one day.  
  
Gwen would make sure that he told her soon just to satisfy her curiosity. It wasn’t much now but it was bound to rise up and bite her again once events fell into place. But right now she honestly didn’t mind not knowing. She didn’t think it mattered. The truth was she didn’t care about how Cador knew about Tor, or whether it was for the most part a coincidence.  
  
All she cared about at that moment was that she would see Arthur again. That meant everything.  
  
-  
  
“Good morning, my lady.”  
  
Morgana opened her eyes to see Cecilia drawing back the curtains. She had been lying there in a semi-conscious state since early that morning when Cecilia first came into work. The girl had carefully tiptoed around in the next room and quietly answered the door when someone came. Morgana felt a surge of power run through her that made her think it might be Merlin, but it was early in the morning and she had just had the dream again so it could have been that. She no longer awoke in a cold sweat or early in the morning because it was just the same dream, over and over again. She had become desensitised to it.  
  
“My lady?” the girl said, coming towards the bed. “Are you awake?”  
  
“Of course I’m awake,” Morgana snapped.  
  
Cecilia stepped back, “I apologise, my lady.”  
  
The girl then darted to one side as Morgana sat up on bed and rubbed her eyes. Cecilia then returned with a package wrapped in a red cloth. The lady stared at it, purposely being awkward. “What’s this?” she asked the maid.  
  
“I don’t know,” Cecilia said, placing it down on the bed. “Merlin brought it around this morning, but he didn’t tell me what it was. There is a letter as well.”  
  
Cecilia then turned away to carry out work in the next room, as far away from Morgana as possible. The shy and quiet chambermaid was starting to wish that Maud had got the promotion instead of her when Gwen left. If only Maud wasn’t such a gossip, and if only Emma didn’t steal things, and if only Claudia hadn’t gone for a roll in the hay with John and ended up with a bun in the oven...  
  
_Why did it have to be_ me _doing this_ awful _job?_ Cecilia lamented.  
  
Back in the bedroom Morgana opened the letter first. She recognised Merlin’s handwriting straight away from the numerous notes he had made for her during their lessons. As she opened the letter she quietly read it to herself, keeping one hand firmly on the package wrapped in red cloth:  
  
_Morgana,_  


_When you read this I will have gone off to find Gwen with Arthur and Gawain. I felt I should write you this note to apologise for yesterday. I think it was wrong to go back on our agreement to remain friends and nothing more. I hope you agree and still consider me a friend. I would certainly like to keep teaching you in any case, which is what the present I made you is all about. Open it when you have finished this letter and hide it somewhere that neither Cecilia nor anyone else will find it. It took me a while to put it together and I hope you get some use out of it._

_The reason I wrote you this note is to finally explain what the dreams have been about. I’ve managed to gather information from a few sources and I have finally found out what is going on. The dream is, as we thought, foretelling of the conflict in Rheged. It’s not going to be any old war; it will be a Great War stretching over Albion. This war will shape the future of everything we now know, which is probably why we have both been having these dreams. Apparently anyone with a sensitivity or magical talent might be having them; that is the nature of the_ ‘r ddyfodol gwawchia _. It isn’t just humans either but all creatures of the Old Religion, too. But the dream will stop soon, I promise. I don’t know exactly when but it will end very soon._

_I don’t know what we’ll do when we find Gwen but, whatever we do, I’m sure we’ll all be seeing you soon._

_In the mean time be nice to Cecilia. I know you were upset when Gwen was exiled but it was not Cecilia’s fault and even if we return to Camelot with Gwen it is unlikely she will be your servant ever again. So be nice to Cecilia because she is a really nice girl._

_Merlin_

  
Morgana put the note down immediately and untied the knot keeping it sealed. Inside was a book that looked like one of Gaius’s old medical books. She shook her head a little and opened it up. It was then that she realised that the old content of the book had been cut out and a new book inserted.  
  
She flicked through the pages and was amazed to see what she did; they were all spells, written out neatly with Merlin’s own hand. There were none of the truly dangerous or powerful spells in there but the spells such as how to create fire, how to open doors, how to close and lock doors, how to transform and reveal inanimate objects and various other little handy spells were all written there. And each was accompanied with ‘cheat notes’ to make it easier for her to avoid setting her hair alight.  
  
Morgana’s heart genuinely fluttered inside her cheat; it was the excitement of having her own book of charms and the thought of how much effort and time Merlin put in to making it for her. She hugged it to her like a little child. She had completely forgotten about the dream though, as she read the letter, she had remained hopeful when he said he thought it would stop soon.  
  
She then remembered the note; she had to hide this book somewhere.  
  
Glancing over to where Cecilia was in the next room, Morgana carefully pulled herself out of bed and looked around, wondering where the best place to hide it was. She knew Merlin hid it under the floorboards but Morgana didn’t have loose ones in her room. The best place she could think of was the canopy above her bed. That would do until she found somewhere better and it was a place no one would find to look. Not that they would, she was the king’s ward.  
  
She stood on her bed and carefully slipped the book onto the wooden top before jumping down, landing with a slightly thud. Cecilia came rushing back into the room to see what it was.  
  
“Are you alright, my lady?” she asked timidly.  
  
“I’m fine,” she declared quickly, avoiding the temptation to glance up at her hidden treasure by walking away from the bed. “Fetch me my clothes. I wish to visit the Princess Elaine today.”  
  
Cecilia rushed off to fetch Morgana something to wear as the lady drifted over to the window to look out over the courtyard. She thought of Merlin riding faithfully alongside Arthur and Gawain on the quest to find Gwen. It made her heart tighten again. Merlin could be very selfless at times and he didn’t realise just how selfless he was. He just saw it as the call of duty. It made her smile like a child that had got the doll she wanted.  
  
She didn’t know why she felt so ridiculously happy. It was just a book... but it was a book that _he_ made. _For her_. It was written in his hand and had notes next to the parts she found hard to pronounce or found difficult to understand. It meant she could practise whenever she wanted just like he could, and then she could show him her progress. It was a book that he had written and bound together, something that must have taken him so long to do...  
  
If Gaius found out Merlin had cut apart one of his medical books, he would kill him!  
  
Morgana felt giddy. I never feel this silly and girlish, she thought to herself with a beaming smiling. _What’s wrong with me?!_  
  
Cecilia returned with a green dress. “Will this one be alright?”  
  
She turned around and, to Cecilia’s astonishment Morgana smiled as she took it from the young girl’s hands. “Yes, thank you.” 


	7. Chapter 7

It was noon by the time Arthur, Merlin and Gawain came within eyesight of the border between Camelot and Tor. It had been even faster than they had expected. They were all sweating and gaping for water in exhaustion, although Arthur lacked much interest cooling down and catching his breath as he was itching to get over the border. But he didn’t push the issue as they had made brilliant time and Merlin, Gawain and the horses were exhausted.  
  
“I think Gringalet could do with a few moments rest,” Gawain commented as he patted the horse’s neck. “We’re making brilliant timing. It’s not like your father’s guards are going to catch up to us and drag us back.”  
  
Arthur finally took the drinking bottle and took a long gulp before saying, “Don’t damn us, Gawain.”  
  
Merlin looked at the horizon. “So... we’re going to Ynys Tor, not to all the way to the Tamar?”  
  
“Cador and Gwen should be there by tomorrow,” Gawain explained. “Besides if Uther twigs before tonight he’ll assume that Arthur has ridden to the  
  
They both noted that Arthur was clearly very agitated still.  
  
Gawain leaned over and whispered, “No wonder his horse is jumpy with him onboard.”  
  
“He has a mind of his own,” Merlin said aloud. “The horse I mean, not as docile as Gringalet. Arthur’s horse bites my ears and my hair.”  
  
Gawain patted his horse again. “Gringalet does me proud; I’ve never lost a joust nor missed a jump while riding him. It’s only when I let other people ride him that I fall off. In some ways he is my most faithful companion, along with Coch and my brothers.”  
  
Merlin shook his head. “And Coch is...?”  
  
“My dog”  
  
The two men laughed. Arthur rolled his eyes.  
  
“He’s a lot like Cabal, actually” Gawain went on to say.  
  
Merlin stared at him. “Who’s Cabal?”  
  
“The erstwhile Hoel,” Arthur explained, before nudging his horse on. “Come on, we’ve rested long enough.”  
  
The two men followed on. Thankfully Arthur remained at a slow pace, though he was resisting the urge to speed up.  
  
“You didn’t tell me you changed his name,” Merlin called back to Arthur.  
  
“Didn’t I?” he replied, uninterested. “It must have slipped my mind.”  
  
“So you let me called ‘Cabal’ by the wrong name and him ignore me all that time... and you didn’t say anything?” Merlin sulked.  
  
Arthur laughed for the first time since they left Camelot. “I’m sorry—I just thought you’d pick it up. He certainly did.”  
  
“Why did you change his name anyway?”  
  
“I was worried my father would find it disrespectful.”  
  
“Why would he do that?”  
  
“Because ‘Hoel’ was the name of the late-late Duke of Cornwall,” Arthur replied. “He was also Morgana’s grandfather, though she never knew him. But my father did and thought the world of him. Besides, Cabal suits him better.”  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes.  
  
“Do you think he misses her?” he suddenly said.  
  
“Who misses who?” Gawain asked.  
  
Merlin looked to him and smiled. “Oh no, I was just thinking—I don’t know if you know this but Reibia is H—I mean _Cabal_ ’s mother. She had two puppies and the other one, Fach, is Gwen’s dog. I was just wondering if Cabal missed her.”  
  
Arthur scoffed. “It’s a dog, Merlin. He probably doesn’t even remember her that much.”  
  
“She’s still his sister,” Merlin said defensively. “And I always get the feeling that Reibia still knows that Cabal and Fach are her puppies...”  
  
“Are we actually having this conversation?” Arthur said, unable to fight back the urge to laugh. “We are within ten yards of the border to Tor and _you’re_ bleating about whether the bloody _dogs_ have missed each other!”  
  
Gawain laughed too.  
  
“You see the kind of rubbish he comes out with when he’s bored?” Arthur said to his cousin.  
  
“Oi!” Merlin protested.  
  
“It’s better than sitting there quietly,” Gawain remarked.  
  
“To each their own” Arthur said dismissively, although in truth he agreed. He didn’t mind Merlin rattling on really as it did keep them entertained, which was the point Gawain was trying to make in his subtle way.  
  
They walked further on and finally the border was straight in front of them. Arthur pointed ahead, “There it is!”  
  
Arthur and Merlin rode on faster but Gawain started to slow down. It wasn’t until the two men reached the border that they realised the younger prince was lagging behind. They turned and called back to him.  
  
“Come on,” the cousin said, “Once we’re over the border then my father can’t forcibly return us back to Camelot.”  
  
Gawain smiled. “I was just thinking that... maybe I should head back to Camelot and try and hold them up. This is your lover, after all and Merlin’s friend... I just don’t...”  
  
Arthur rolled his eyes. “Gawain, come on! You’ve come this far with us so you can come all the way with us.”  
  
The younger man still smiled. “I don’t want to be in the way...”  
  
“Never—if I can’t put up with Merlin then you could never get in the way.”  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes and muttered, “This is just ‘Bash Merlin Day’ isn’t it?”  
  
They two men laughed.  
  
“Besides,” Arthur went on with a smile, “don’t you remember the promise we made?”  
  
Gawain tilted his head. “That I would help you whenever you needed it? I like to think I’ve already helped—”  
  
“No,” Arthur corrected him. “I meant the promise you asked me to make _you_. Don’t you remember that May Day on the night of the masked ball? I promised that _I would invite you_ and I intend to keep that promise.”  
  
Gawain realised what his cousin was going on about now and laughed. Merlin as usual didn’t have a clue about what they were talking about. Once more he couldn’t be bothered to ask as they would only laugh and tell him to wait and see as they had done before. Maybe Gawain was right, maybe it was their Dubois blood. He thought he was getting close to understanding why they were going to Tor though...  
  
Whatever this promise may have been Gawain resolved to go with them all the way and finally rode over the border to join Arthur and Merlin. Once face to face with him he immediately pointed ahead, knowing the best path to make having travelled through Tor recently.  
  
“We should keep riding straight ahead,” he told them. “This will take us to the apple orchids, beyond which is Saint Michael’s chapel. The pilgrims of the New Religion should have cleared off by now so we’ll be able to camp there for tonight.”  
  
“Why are we meeting them there?” Merlin asked.  
  
“It’s the heart of Tor,” Gawain told him.  
  
“That doesn’t explain it,” the servant went on.  
  
Arthur was becoming agitated again. “Shut up your yapping, Merlin. _You’re_ starting to sound like a damned dog. We best ride on so we reach Tor before dark.”  
  
-  
  
Elsewhere Cador, Gwen and the small party arrived at the home of the friend Cador had mentioned. They had swiftly packed, caught the tide across the narrow Tintagel Sea and rode all day towards the castle known as Dorr. The friend in question, who was called Odell, had gone abroad to the continent to visit relatives, leaving the castle free to his old friend and his entourage to use.  
  
“He does know we were coming, doesn’t he?” Gwen asked nervously.  
  
Cador laughed, “Of course he does! I planned this journey well in advance. I told you that Anna and I planned everything, even the overnight stop.  
  
Admittedly Gwen was still getting hear head around the fact that she would be reunited with Arthur tomorrow. She kept playing different scenarios in her heart. Would it be a passionate meeting or a tearful farewell? She was still no wiser about Anna’s role in the whole thing, and after Cador had promised to tell her later she hadn’t bothered to ask. She did ask about Anna, though. The reason was that she was worried:  
  
“If she finds out that Arthur came to see me, won’t she be angry?”  
  
“You shouldn’t be afraid of Anna,” Cador assured her with a wink. “She’s actually the one that made it possible for your reunion.”  
  
“How?”  
  
“She doesn’t just want an alliance with Uther; she wants one with me also.”  
  
The truth was Gwen was uninterested in how and why Anna was helping them. She gathered it was for an alliance with Cador but... all Gwen cared about was the fact that it allowed her to see Arthur. It was all she could think about. It was all she had wanted. Despite her comfortable and peaceful existence on Tintagel she just couldn’t put to sleep her deep longing for him.  
  
“What about Elaine?” Gwen asked.  
  
Cador just smiled and said. “Anna is a woman of mystery. Let no man be foolish enough to try and guess what goes on in her head, or any woman’s head for that matter.”  
  
Gwen was beginning to suspect that Cador’s lost love that Ysgyrdav had told her about (and Cador himself had mentioned) was indeed Anna. It would certainly explain his underlying resentment towards King Lot if Anna had left to marry him. The way Cador spoke of Anna with such affection and admiration that it did make her wonder.  
  
The castle itself was on a small hillside fort. It wasn’t much to look at and was more like a tower than an actual citadel like Camelot or Tintagel. They entered the virtually deserted hall of the castle. The few remaining servants greeted them, taking their coats and leading them to the dining room where food had been prepared. Gwen wasn’t very hungry but Cador was famished. Yet even when he was hungry he still maintained his habit of picking at his food like a bird.  
  
Gwen looked around the room.  
  
Dorr had a rich history according to Cador and, of course, he shared it with Gwen on their journey. He told her of how the royal house of Gwynedd had fled there after the great king Cunedda’s death; how Vortigern had sentenced Cunedda’s four grandchildren – Igraine, Tristan, Anna and Mark – to death; how Cador’s family had helped them (and their supporters) escape Gwynedd, and how the castle (or rather tower) had only been rebuilt in the last ten years. It had burnt down twenty five years ago after a great battle between the residence and the tyrant Vortigern.  
  
“I was there at the time,” Cador explained, picking up the story from where he had left off from the trip. “My father was still the Duke of Cornwall then. He, along with our allies among those in Dumnonia – including Uther’s family as the Pendragons had not yet been restored to Camelot – and my brother and I, allowed Mark and his wife to take residence at Dorr while Igraine, Tristan and Anna remained with them. When Vortigern found out where they were he immediately set out for Cornwall in order to slaughter us all.”  
  
He clutched a wine goblet.  
  
“Vortigern had gone there with only one purpose, to kill us.” His voice was filled with melancholy. “The Cornish army and Uther’s host at the time managed fight him back but in the confusion the castle was set alight. Most of us escaped unharmed; Tristan was badly burned. Anna collapsed from the smoke but survived. I managed to escape with just a few scolds, nothing serious. But I too collapsed from the smoke. I only heard what happened next from what Gaius told me...”  
  
Gwen listened intently. “What happened to Mark?”  
  
“He was trapped inside,” Cador said solemnly. “He had tried to get everyone out. It had been him that helped me escape. He was a great man, a fearless warrior and rightful king of Gwynedd. He was _ready_ to be king.”  
  
“He died in the fire?”  
  
“Yes,” Cador whispered, “And Esyllt too.”  
  
“Did he go back to look for her?”  
  
Cador shook his head sadly. “Tristan and Esyllt were trying to carry Anna to safety – she was twelve at the time – but they knew Mark was still trapped inside. Tristan refused to look for him while Anna was in danger; he would never let any harm come to his sisters. They carried Anna from the fire where she was tended to by Gaius and Igraine. Uther asked Tristan where Mark was, and he said that he couldn’t save him...”  
  
He took a deep breath.  
  
“While everyone was distracted with their wounds and the disaster Esyllt ran back inside to find him. She was gone before anyone could stop her. It was the last we saw of her.”  
  
The atmosphere was very tense.  
  
Gwen was engrossed in the story. “I’m sorry.”  
  
Cador nodded. “The fire burned for two days. When we searched the wreckage there was nothing left. They had been burned to a cinder.”  
  
“I wonder if they found each other,” Gwen said thoughtfully. “I doubt it...”  
  
“I like to think they did,” Cador said thoughtfully. “I hate the thought of them dying alone in that blaze. Tristan was never the same afterwards; he donned black armour of mourning and rode about the land, half-mad and challenging anyone he deemed strong enough to the death. That was how he died.”  
  
“He challenged someone stronger than him?”  
  
“The man was lucky. Tristan was further maddened by more grief,” Cador said cryptically, not wanting to delve into Uther’s murky past. There were aspects of Uther’s life that neither he nor Anna knew about. “Even now I remember Anna begging him not to fight because – I don’t know how – but she knew that Tristan would die.”  
  
“Who was the man that killed him?”  
  
Cador looked at Gwen but said nothing. Instead he looked around the room they sat in.  
  
“It looks nothing like it used to,” he said thoughtfully. He then smiled and turned back to Gwen. “But this is where Mark and Esyllt fell. I remember them fondly despite how they met their end.”  
  
Gwen smiled sadly.  
  
Cador tilted his head. “There it is again, that smile of yours. I don’t want you to feel sorry for something that happened twenty-five years ago. You weren’t even a twinkle in your father’s eye then.”  
  
“I can’t help it,” she said, looking down. “It’s such a sad story.”  
  
“It was wrong of me to bring it up,” he concluded.  
  
“No, I like hearing about your past” Gwen confessed.  
  
“I’m flattered you don’t find me boring.”  
  
“Not at all.” Gwen’s smile became more warm and cheerful. “You’ve helped me keep my mind occupied from... other things.”  
  
Cador leaned forward and patted one of her hands.  
  
“I’m glad that I provided some distraction even if you could never take your mind off Arthur.”  
  
Gwen glanced towards a window to see the sun still shining in the sky. It was like the last nice day before winter started to set in. “I spent most of my time worrying that he’d forget me,” she confessed.  
  
“Never,” Cador said with a grin. “A man never forgets a woman he truly loves. Believe me, I know.”  
  
“Does your lost love know how you felt about her?” Gwen asked.  
  
Cador nodded. “She knew—but even thought our situations are similar, I think you and Arthur are a very special case.”  
  
Gwen sighed. “I hope that’s true.”  
  
-  
  
As the sky began to darken over Camelot Uther was starting to get anxious. He paced around the dining room at dinner time unsure whether he was worried, angry or both. Not that it was unusual. Arthur tended to disappear for hours on end without telling anyone especially these days. It was the disappearance of Gawain that had him wondering. He didn’t think they had been attacked or detained by enemies but even if they were he knew that Arthur and Gawain would see them off easily.  
  
Uther asked Morgana and Elaine if they had said anything to them as they, Anna and he all sat down for dinner. He ate nothing. He had lost his appetite.  
  
“I’m afraid they said nothing to me,” the beauteous blonde told her uncle, pleasantly biting into a red strawberry. “I didn’t want to pry. Gawain is my brother. I don’t _want_ to know what he gets up to. As for Arthur my cousin... and might be my husband” (She said this with a tint of irony none but Uther failed to miss) “so I thought I’d get leave prying into his affairs for then.”  
  
The king shook his head in agitation and turned to Morgana. She was in a daze; he patronizingly waved his hand before her face.  
  
“Morgana?” he grunted.  
  
She looked at him. “Sorry? Arthur—oh, right... no he didn’t tell me anything either.”  
  
Uther rolled his eyes and turned to look out the window while rubbing the back of his head furiously.  
  
Elaine looked at Morgana and smiled.  
  
The two ladies had spent the entire day together and the princess couldn’t help but notice that Morgana was in a much happier mood than she had been the last few days. They had taken wine together in the late morning before going for a walk in the castle grounds, after which they met up with Sir Percival and conversed with him until he had to return to training.  
  
“You seem happy,” Elaine finally mentioned as they waved goodbye to Percival. “I have never seen you teeth so much in my life.”  
  
Morgana laughed. “I don’t know what you mean.”  
  
“It’s almost as if you’re in love.”  
  
The lady had blushed and said, “Nonsense!”  
  
Anna sat at the other end of the table and watched Uther. The display of agitation and questions to the girls about whether they were _sure_ the boys hadn’t said anything went on for another fifteen minutes before she stepped in the dismiss Elaine and Morgana. They were happy to go.  
  
Once they had left Anna turned back to Uther.  
  
“You’re getting het up over nothing, Uther” she told him.  
  
“How do you know that?”  
  
“I know.”  
  
Uther gestured towards the window helplessly. No words came out of his mouth. Anna smiled, finding his expression amusing. He shook his head and slumped into his throne at the other end of the table.  
  
Anna turned her posture to face him (She had been sitting sideways on her own chair) and went on:  
  
“They’re young men out on a ride,” she said with obviousness. “They probably lost track of time, rode too far out to get back here before dark and just decided to camp out tonight. It’s not exactly unknown. You and Gorlois used to do it all the time.”  
  
Uther just huffed angrily before settling in to a slightly sadder tone of voice. “If that is true then I bet Arthur is doing it on purpose. He hates me for sending that girl away... and I can’t really blame him.”  
  
Anna sighed.  
  
She wondered if she should him out of his misery. It had occurred to her many times to tell him but something always stopped her. If it wasn’t fear that he would be angry; it was him not understanding and having to explain it to him. The scar on his forehead seemed to pop out when Uther was angry. His subjects found it scary, but Anna found it amusing.  
  
So she decided not to tell him... yet. She was going to tell him tomorrow anyway so there was no point in shaving off a few hours. Let him stew in his juices a bit longer, she thought.  
  
Not that she enjoyed seeing Uther boil over because of Arthur’s behaviour. Anna liked Uther despite his temper; she had known him too long to find even his worst aspects punishable. She wasn’t in a position to dish out punishment anyway, even as the most powerful queen in the north. She understood the pressures of being a monarch.  
  
Anna imagined that was how Gaius felt; once you know someone as cantankerous as Uther for thirty odd years you tend to become desensitised to them. It was probably because they had a slightly less grumpy memory of Uther to draw upon too. He had _always_ been grumpy!  
  
She sighed and got to her feet.  
  
“Good night,” she told him softly. “I promise you, there is nothing to worry about.”  
  
“It’s not worry,” he muttered into his glove. “It is the dread of not knowing what he’s up to. I have an awful feeling this will all blow up in my face...”  
  
Anna rolled her eyes. “It won’t—now stop _fussing_!”  
  
Elsewhere in the castle Gaius was preparing the queen and the princess’s potions for that night. Elaine had sent her compliments to him saying that the medicine had helped a great deal, which was a change for Gaius since they rarely did work for anyway. Then again he suspected that the girl was lying just to make him feel better.  
  
There was a knock at the door.  
  
“Come in,” he called not looking up.  
  
The door opened and an unexpected face poked its head around the door. It was at that point Gaius looked up. It was the last person he had expected to see.  
  
“ _Anna_ ,” he said in surprise.  
  
Gaius immediately put down his potion bottle and nodded his head politely. He didn’t know what to do; whether to bow or just stand there. He remembered this remarkable woman when she was just Igraine’s sister. There was no bowing then.  
  
“It is a pleasure to see you.”  
  
Anna entered the room and closed the door behind her. She walked gracefully into the room with her hands joined at the front and looked around the room as if to take it in. There were a lot of memories flooding back to her.  
  
She then looked directly at Gaius and smiled. “I wanted to come and say hello, and to thank you for the remedy you’ve been sending Elaine and I.”  
  
“Are they as useless as ever?” he joked.  
  
Anna sighed. “They are more helpful than you think; remember what I have is not magic but a sixth sense. Although I can never switch it off it does become tamer.”  
  
“Is it still the same?” he asked. “Your _affliction_ I mean.”  
  
The queen looked around the room and grabbed the first object that she could set her hands on. It happened to be (of all things) to be the small container that had once held water from the cup of life that Merlin had brought back to save Arthur. The moment Anna touched it, it all came to her.  
  
“Nimueh, life water, the grail, the rain, Arthur and Merlin – I assume that is the young lad you look after – and...” she stopped and quickly put it down. An unpleasant feeling came over her. “It’s still the same as ever. I can pick up any object and I could tell you where it came from. I can touch any person and tell you what they’re thinking...”  
  
“You cope very well with it,” Gaius responded.  
  
Anna chuckled. “After nearly forty years of this _curse_ I have had to. Like all the other women in my family. I don’t see it as magic but Uther would and I don’t want Lot catching wind of it either. The art of magic is too close to the religion still worshiped by the Picts; he’d think I’d betrayed him.”  
  
“I’m glad that you cope nonetheless, my lady.”  
  
The queen rolled her eyes. “Goodness sake, Gaius! Don’t ‘my lady’ me after all these years. We have known each other too long to stand on formality. When you address me as a queen it makes me remember the days when you were the important one and the likes of me were nothing.”  
  
“You weren’t ‘nothing’” Gaius chuckled. “You were the granddaughter of Cunedda, a lot higher ranking than Uther was before he succeeded here as king.”  
  
“Well,” she said with a grin, “Uther might forget that he is ‘Uther’ but I never forget that I am ‘Anna’. I’d prefer it if you didn’t too.”  
  
“Very well, Anna,” the old man said, and returned the smile. He then picked up another formula he had concocted for the queen and her daughter. “I managed to make the sleeping draught you requested. I assume then that you have been suffering from nightmares.”  
  
“The first time in twenty years,” Anna admitted dismally.  
  
“Then it is the collective echo?” Gaius asked.  
  
She nodded. “I imagine so... Elaine has been having the dreams too. I’m not certain what they are trying to tell me but—I think I have interpreted them right. I planned ahead.”  
  
“I’m sorry Elaine has been having the dreams.”  
  
“And the twins too,” she said sadly. “Thankfully it doesn’t trouble them as much as you’d expect, my poor loves. All three of them keep seeing me in their dreams, apparently.”  
  
Gaius tilted his head. “Oh?”  
  
“When I was younger,” she explained. “At least, that’s what Elaine said—I tried to ‘read’ her but I just felt dizzy.”  
  
The bout of realisation hit Gaius like a bolt of thunder. “Oh! That was _you_ then?”  
  
“Has someone else been having the dreams?” Anna asked curiously. Gaius didn’t want to mention Merlin but the queen guessed before he could answer. She nodded and smiled with assurance, “It’s alright Gaius I won’t tell Uther. Besides I suspected Morgana must be having the dreams too, just like her mother used to...”  
  
“Yes,” Gaius said quickly. “Let’s not go into that...”  
  
There was a moment of silence.  
  
Gaius looked at Anna. He would never have imagined years ago that Anna Dubois, the youngest daughter of his good friends Amlawdd and Gwenhwyfar, and sister to sensible and reserved Igraine would one day be a great northern queen renowned for her masterly ability to get people to dance to her tune.  
  
“Why are you here, Anna?” he finally asked.  
  
“I told you I wanted to thank you for—”  
  
“No, no” he said quickly. “I mean what are you doing in Camelot? You must have a plan underway.”  
  
Anna shrugged. “What makes you think that?”  
  
“Because you always have a plan,” the old man replied. He had known her too long to be put off by her persistent attempts at dodging questions. Uther had never mastered the ability of pinning Anna down and probably never would. But Gaius had. “I can’t believe you’d come all this way just to finalise a treaty and marry Elaine off to Arthur.”  
  
“You don’t think I would?”  
  
“I know you wouldn’t.”  
  
Anna looked at him slyly. “And why do you think I _am_ here?”  
  
“That’s just it,” Gaius replied, and leant back in his chair. “I don’t know why—I was hoping you would indulge me.”  
  
“Did you really?”  
  
“Yes, you usually do.”  
  
The smile across Anna’s grew wider and despite her previous attempts of covering her tracks and trying to keep everyone guessing until the very end she _wanted_ to tell Gaius.  
  
“Fine,” Anna chuckled. “I’ll tell you—and I promise to fill Uther in tomorrow. That’s when everything will come to head.”  
  
“So it is something to do with the treaty?” Gaius guessed.  
  
“Obviously,” she replied. “It always has been since the moment Lot and Uther brought it up and Lot, in his subtle way, threw the marriage proposal my way and asked me to get hold of Uther’s army. That’s what he wanted—an army to help him in this war. He said ‘Uther wants protection, tell him we’ll offer it if he helps us.’ So, I did.”  
  
“So you came up with the idea of Elaine marrying Arthur?”  
  
Anna laughed. “Good heavens, _no_! I knew that would be a disaster from the start. I know my daughter is destined for something special but that special thing is _not_ the title of Queen of Camelot.”  
  
Gaius shrugged. “So, what did you do?”  
  
“At first I groaned,” she confessed. “I had half a mind to just tell Uther to send the armies and not bother with the marriage... but he has this ridiculous fear that I’m going to die. I knew just telling him I wasn’t wouldn’t help.”  
  
Gaius looked away for a moment, not really knowing what Anna was getting at. He then turned back to her, “You wanted Camelot’s armies to fight alongside Lot’s against Claudius?”  
  
“Lot wanted it,” she corrected him. “If I had control of every aspect of my kingdom – including the army – then there would _never_ have been a war. I tried to negotiate with Claudius but that idiot Urien wasn’t having any of it. He stormed in there with his soldiers before I could say ‘Stop’ and flung Albion into panic, the fool.”  
  
“So Claudius retaliated?”  
  
“Yes, _that part_ Lot forgot to tell Uther back in May” Anna grumbled. “I didn’t want Claudius to marry Elaine any more than Lot did but Urien pushed Claudius to the limits and... the boy is an _idiot_ but I would have reacted the same way if goaded by a king as powerful as my husband. He had nothing to lose.”  
  
“They just wanted rid of Claudius,” Gaius confirmed.  
  
“And those that support him,” Anna added. She sat back in her chair and sighed, “Suddenly I found myself being bombarded with suggestions of alliances. Lot knows Camelot has a lot of gold and Arthur’s reputed skills as a warrior... he thought together them and Gawain would work a treat.”  
  
“They would,” Gaius agreed.  
  
“And _will_ ,” Anna corrected. “This war has gone too far now and too many personal grudges are being brought to light. You know that Claudius has appealed to Bayard for help?”  
  
“Yes,” Gaius said worriedly. “But I don’t understand—why are you here? You still haven’t told me.”  
  
Anna leaned forward. “The armies of Camelot aren’t enough, Gaius, and nor are its riches. I needed someone else... but there was no one else. Then I realised that there _was_.”  
  
Gaius thought for a moment before it dawned on him. “You mean Cador?”  
  
“Yes,” the queen finally said with relief. “He and Uther both have soldiers just sitting on the border at the Tamar doing nothing and getting bored. Then there is Cador’s army that he stations inside Cornwall...”  
  
Anna stopped and changed the subject slightly.  
  
“Of course the armies of Camelot would be better than nothing so I indulged Uther until something else came up,” she explained. “And then it did.”  
  
“Gwen,” Gaius said simply.  
  
“First it was the dream, then it was Gwen,” Anna corrected him. “I started seeing a pretty young woman in my dream. I wondered what it meant. Then Uther kicked off about this maidservant, but even before that Áedh kept me well informed about this girl Arthur was supposedly in love with. When I asked Áedh (and Uther) to tell me more about this girl... I realised it was the one I (and Elaine) were dreaming about. After that I started to feel sorry for them.”  
  
“You have always lived up your promise.”  
  
She shrugged. “It didn’t all dawn on me straight away—the plan, I mean. I did recognise the girl’s name though. Guinevere. I remembered that Cador’s friend had a daughter with that name, the same as my mother, and the name is uncommon so it had to be the same girl.”  
  
“You organised her exile for Uther?”  
  
“Every last detail,” she replied, “with the help of Gawain and Cador, of course. I dread to think what Uther might have done had Áedh not told him to come to me.”  
  
“I do too,” Gaius admitted gravely. “So you planned the exile so that she would be sent to Cador.”  
  
Anna smiled. “It had been a few years since I last wrote to Cador but he was very willing to help. He thought the world of that blacksmith. And like I said... I empathised with them both, Arthur and Guinevere.”  
  
It then occurred to Gaius, in the loosest possible way, what Anna was getting at, what she had done and planned. It was clever—yet now he thought he knew he wondered why he hadn’t seen it coming a mile off. That was always the case with Anna’s tricks.  
  
“You don’t just want Uther and Cador to ally with you alone,” he concluded. “You want them to ally... _with each other_.”  
  
“I had to get them talking somehow and I had to do it in a way that would satisfy both of them,” Anna said. “For Uther it will be freeing up those soldiers on the border without have to sacrifice support with Lot. For Cador it will be uniting Cornwall with Dumnonia again one day. It’s obvious Arthur will one day take over the five kingdoms; the other kings are childless but for Olaf with his daughter—daft as her mother before her—who will never make a believable queen regnant.”  
  
Gaius smiled. “I assume you haven’t told Cador all of this.”  
  
“Not everything, no,” she laughed. “Although I’ve told him more than Uther. He was keen at the idea of his erstwhile ‘charge’ reuniting herself with Uther’s son right under Uther’s nose.”  
  
“I believe he was,” Gaius joked. “It seems you duped them both.”  
  
“Truth is... I think he’s tired. The House is all but dead and Cador just wants Cornwall to be safe when he’s gone.”  
  
“So that is where Arthur has gone?”  
  
“To meet with Gwen and Cador, yes” she confirmed. “Tomorrow I will tell Uther everything, and —once he stops steaming from the ears —we will finally finalise the treaty... once we have met with Cador and come to an agreement, which we will since Cador and Uther will have no choice by tomorrow evening.”  
  
“You seem certain of that.”  
  
Anna grinned and winked, “I am. If things don’t go exactly to plan then I’ll make sure it does. Uther will be looking for a way out of the black hole he is currently in with Arthur and Cador, well, he seemed to be keen on helping me even before I told him the plan. He’ll see reason.”  
  
Gaius said nothing for a while. Finally he gave Anna a gentle look and chose his words with care. There was an element of empathy with Arthur and Gwen’s situation on Cador’s side of things that Gaius knew very well.  
  
“It sounds to me like Cador is still very much in love with you,” he said softly.  
  
It was the first time in a while that Anna had looked fragile and embarrassed. She was usually so strong and confident even without saying a word; the composure of a queen that had lived long enough to know that to show weakness was to die. But only Gaius was watching now.  
  
She smiled lightly. “Be that as it may I shall apply to Cador’s reason at the end of the day, not his heart. That wouldn’t be fair.”  
  
“Maybe that’s why your daughters, Morgana and Merlin saw you in their dreams,” Gaius suggested with care. “Arthur’s situation with Gwen is very similar to your situation with Cador all those years ago.”  
  
“Except for one thing,” Anna pointed out. “I _chose_ to marry Lot. Arthur did not choose to be engaged to Elaine, and neither did Elaine choose him. I _never_ want any of my children to marry someone against their will and the same goes for my nephew.”  
  
Gaius offered her his warmest smile. “It seems that underneath that harsh exterior of yours beats the heart of a romantic.”  
  
Anna laughed. “Not really, it’s not like I’m getting nothing out of this.”  
  
“But still,” he went on, “you could have gained Cador’s help for yourself and not bothered with Uther.”  
  
“I would never do that to Uther,” Anna said, quiet but still confident. “I want him to be alright. Besides I’m not doing this so much for Uther as I’m doing it for Arthur’s sake. I will never forget the promise I made my sister before she died to always look after him. I know I can come across overbearing at time but...”  
  
Gaius placed a hand on Anna’s and spoke in an almost fatherly tone; “I know.”  
  
-  
  
Arthur, Merlin and Gawain reached the apple orchids just below Tor before dark. By the time they finally reached it they were exhausted. After they had gathered the fire wood – or rather Merlin had gathered the firewood – they lit a fire and ate more or less in silence. Merlin and Gawain maintained some form of conversation but Arthur was too distracted.  
  
“I’m just going for a walk,” he suddenly declared, and left Merlin and Gawain to their talking.  
  
Arthur walked along the dark apple trees lining the low lands beyond which lay a hill where firelight was illuminating the ground around it.  
  
It had been a long time since Arthur himself had been to Tor. His position rarely had allowed him to go on pilgrimages to give thanks to any gods, demigods or saints.  
  
He sat down on the edge of the orchid and looked up at chapel to Saint Michael at the top of the hill. It was an important focus point for people of the New Religion. Camelot was still stuck in the old traditions of hand fasting for marriage and May Day festivals with masked balls, jousting and feats of Beltane despite being predominantly ‘New Religion’. Arthur didn’t know what he believed but admittedly found it easier to comprehend the New Religion than the Old. He thought both were probably very similar. They were just dressed up to look different.  
  
At the end of the day whether a priest joins a couple by words or a piece of cloth, they were still married. It was all considered proper and legal.  
  
Arthur reached into his pocket and pulled out the silver fairy.  
  
He didn’t know how he would ever go to sleep tonight, not when he knew he would see Gwen again tomorrow. He was frightened that he had forgotten what she looked like. He was terrified that his father might try and get rid of her again regardless of what his aunt Anna said.  
  
The thing he feared the most was that Guinevere might not love him anymore. It had been... a month? Maybe a bit longer or less. Arthur couldn’t remember how long it was since he had seen her but it felt like an eternity. In his heart he knew their love was strong enough to withstand any length of time... but he still constantly feared the worst. He found it hard sometimes to understand why she loved him. He didn’t realise how low his self-value was at times.  
  
It was at his highest when she was with him or he thought of her.  
  
Arthur never stopped thinking about Gwen; she was all he would ever think about, which she always had been ever since he had first fallen in love with her. But instead of being able to hold her and kiss her as before all he could ever do was remember those moments. He tried hard to remember what her voice sounded like. The longer time went on, the fewer phrases he could recall. He hated it.  
  
“Arthur?”  
  
His head snapped around to see Merlin.  
  
“You shouldn’t leave Gawain on his own,” Arthur said turning back to look at the chapel.  
  
“He’s gone to sleep,” Merlin replied. “Are you alright?”  
  
“I’m fine,” Arthur said. His voice sounded thoughtful but not sad.  
  
Merlin sat down next to him and looked up at the glowing lights of the torches around the chapel that sat right at the top of Tor. There was a thin outline of the steps that led up to it. Being a creature of the old ways Merlin was surprised at how spiritual he found the place. Then again it had been sacred land for the Old Religion before the New Religion; the essence of the high priests and priestesses of times gone by still lingered in the air and made Merlin feel at peace.  
  
“I was just thinking of how things have changed,” he suddenly said.  
  
Arthur glanced at him. “How do you mean?”  
  
“Well, you and Gwen” Merlin replied. “It sort of marked the end of our childhood and brought about the beginning of adulthood.”  
  
“That’s very philosophical of you to say, Merlin.”  
  
“Not really,” the young servant replied. “It’s just the way things are. I think it’s amazing that the greatest love affair of your lives began because you were sending love letters to each other, falling in love blindly. So much changed because of it...”  
  
It was so easy to forget that it had all started because of love letters. Then again the coming together of Arthur and Guinevere had felt so natural that Merlin believed more and more that Morgana was right. The letters were merely one means to an end and they were truly destined to be together.  
  
A smile crept across Arthur’s face. “What you mean is that so much changed because of _your blind ineptitude_ when it comes to delivering letters?”  
  
Merlin looked at him. “What do you mean? I delivered those letters for you with the greatest punctuality—”  
  
“I meant that the first letter was supposed to be addressed to you,” Arthur said without any trace of care. Merlin stared at him wide eyed. Arthur laughed, “What? I figured _that_ ages ago—as soon as Gwen sent me that letter saying that there was someone else.”  
  
“Y-you _knew_ it was me?” Merlin questioned, very embarrassed. “H-how did you know? _I_ didn’t even know until she told me. Did Gwen tell you?”  
  
Arthur scoffed, “Yeah, right, as if she’d just up and tell me something _that_ one day. Honestly Merlin you really can be a fool.”  
  
“Then how...?”  
  
“I told you,” the prince said. “I figured it out for myself. It didn’t take a lot of guessing, especially after you told me you knew this other man and made me promise all those things to you. I told you at the time—I don’t hold it against you.”  
  
Merlin just continued to stare at him. “I thought you meant... something else when you said that. That you didn’t hold it against me for not telling you who the other man was.”  
  
“Well,” Arthur said looking back at the chapel. “I thought you had understood at the time.”  
  
That explained why Arthur only kept the later letters in his secret draw and not the first few. Merlin mentioned that but remembered that he wasn’t supposed to know. He would have to explain how he knew where the letters were hidden. Then Arthur would murder him for going down his draws for reasons that Merlin could only explain as being nosey. He could hardly say he needed objects that belonged to Gwen for a finding spell.  
  
“And you don’t mind?” Merlin asked.  
  
“Why should I?” he shrugged. “At the end of the day she fell for me, not you. Besides you aren’t exactly much of a threat.”  
  
Merlin chuckled before he stopped and scowled. “What’s that supposed to mean? I could get someone like Gwen if I wanted to!”  
  
“Don’t push it, Merlin.”  
  
“Sorry!”  
  
They sat in silence for a moment longer. A wind blew up brushing against their faces and making the torches along Tor flutter in the gale.  
  
“Arthur,” Merlin started up again. This time the prince turned his head to look at him. “Why are we here at Tor and why did you want Gawain and I to be here too? You could have come to meet Gwen by yourself.”  
  
An almost shy smile appeared on Arthur’s face. He had smiled more today than he had in weeks. Gwen really did return hope to him. He held the silver fairy before him. “I’m surprised you haven’t already figured it out.”  
  
“I have an idea,” Merlin admitted, glancing at the lights on Tor again. “I just don’t want to say anything at the risk of being wrong...”  
  
Arthur said nothing. Ten second past before he slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out a kerchief tied together at the ends. He pulled it open as he spoke, “We only need two witnesses, you and Cador, but Gawain did say he wanted to be invited.”  
  
Inside was a ring.  
  
“I knew it!” Merlin said ecstatically. He stared at Arthur’s hand wide eyed and his voice squeaked loudly as went on, “I _bloody_ knew it! You’re going to ask Gwen to marry you!”  
  
Arthur hushed him harshly, “You might wake up Gawain.”  
  
“Why doesn’t he know?”  
  
“Of course he _knows_!” the prince snapped in a whisper. “I won’t be sleeping much tonight but if he is then who am I to begrudge him?”  
  
“I don’t think I will either,” Merlin remarked, rubbing the back of his head. Even though he had seen it coming it was still an exciting thing for him. “ _I can’t believe it_ —what will you father say?”  
  
Arthur closed the hand that held the ring. “I don’t care what my father thinks anymore.”  
  
“Yeah but—won’t he be angry?” Merlin asked. He thought fear of Uther would be obvious in this elopement. “I mean I get that the Duke of Cornwall is in on this but—what about Queen Anna? What will she say?”  
  
Arthur looked at Merlin as if he was stupid. “You still don’t get it, do you?”  
  
Merlin blinked. “Get what?”  
  
“About my aunt Anna,” Arthur went on. “You haven’t figured it out. How do you think that Cador knew about all of this? How do you think Gwen ended up being sent to him in the first place? Why do you think Gawain told me where she was, or why Elaine knew about Gwen?”  
  
Merlin’s eye widened. “You mean—Queen Anna plotted this out?!”  
  
Arthur nodded head patronisingly. “Bravo, Merlin! Still, I can’t blame you for being surprised. I could barely believe it when Gawain told me.”  
  
“But why is she doing it?”  
  
“I don’t really care,” the prince confessed with a sudden fit of laughter. “She can take whatever she wants out of this—as long as Gwen is able to return to Camelot without fear from my father, I _really_ don’t care.”  
  
“Fair enough,” Merlin laughed too.  
  
“She’s doing it to get my father and Cador to unite,” Arthur told him. “At least that’s what I think Gawain said. Two armies are better than one and all of that. There are other details too (all to do with the war) but... like I said, I don’t care. I’ll be called on to fight and defend Camelot whatever happens; I’d like to do it knowing Gwen is at home waiting for me...”  
  
Arthur opened his hand again and held the ring between his fingers.  
  
“This is what I went off to find yesterday,” he said, looking at it as if admiring it. “My aunt actually gave this ring to me when I was twelve. It was my mother’s. My father likes to keep all her things under lock and key so I kept it hidden in the old nursery.”  
  
It seemed ironic that the king kept his dead wife’s personal objects locked up just as he did with the things taken from Gwen’s house. Merlin wondered whether Uther kept a personal shrine to the dead queen hidden underneath one of his draws too...  
  
“I think she’ll like it,” Merlin said, not knowing what to say without sounding like a gushing child. “I mean Gwen will appreciate it because it obviously means a lot to you...”  
  
“Even if...” Arthur began, but he stopped and started again. “Regardless of everything I just want her to have it. Whether she wants to marry me or not I want her to have it. She gave me the fairy, and I’ll give her this.”  
  
“She’ll say yes,” Merlin said with a great degree of certainty. “I know she will.”  
  
Arthur brought his hand to his mouth anxiously. “I don’t even know how I’m going to say it!”  
  
“What do you mean?”  
  
“I mean—how should I ask her?” he said, genuinely starting to sound worried. “It’s all I’ve been thinking about all day—how should I put it?”  
  
“You could just give her the ring and ask her,” Merlin suggested unhelpfully.  
  
“That’s brilliant, Merlin” Arthur snapped sarcastically. “I never would have thought of something so bleeding obvious if you hadn’t pointed it out to me.”  
  
Merlin rolled his eyes. Arthur wasn’t exactly intuitive even to really obvious things. His sarcasm made it clear that he was apprehensive. Merlin decided to approach the subject differently.  
  
“What I meant was is that you shouldn’t worry about it,” he said.  
  
“That’s easier said than done.”  
  
“Just tell her how you feel,” Merlin told him. “Get down on one knee, pull out the ring and ask her to marry you. It doesn’t take much thinking about.”  
  
“Merlin,” Arthur groaned nervously. “I do actually get the process of a proposal. The thing I’m worried about is... that I’ll say it the wrong way.”  
  
“How can you say it the wrong way?”  
  
“I don’t know!” Arthur said, starting to get irritated. “I’m worried that I’ll... stumble over my words, or do the wrong thing and embarrass myself and her by... doing something wrong. I don’t know. I’m just...”  
  
Merlin tilted his head as Arthur continued to threat.  
  
“Nervous?” the servant finally finished.  
  
Arthur sighed. “Yes. I _am_ nervous.”  
  
They sat in awkward silence for another long moment. Merlin wanted to reassure Arthur but all his efforts just seemed to irritate him more. He considered making a joke to lighten the mood but the mood wasn’t exactly tense—Arthur was just concerned about tomorrow. He hadn’t seen Gwen for so long and now... he was going to ask her this big thing.  
  
“You want to practise?” Merlin suggested.  
  
Arthur slowly turned his head to look at him, eyebrows raised.  
  
“What do you mean ‘practise’?”  
  
“I mean you just keep saying it until you say it the way you want to.”  
  
“I’m not revising for an exam!”  
  
“I’m just trying to help!” Merlin said defensively.  
  
He got to his feet clumsily.  
  
“Clearly I’m just bothering you,” he said, walking back towards camp. “I’ll go.”  
  
“Merlin,” Arthur called firmly.  
  
Merlin turned around, came back and plopped beside Arthur again.  
  
“I’m sorry,” the prince said quietly. “I know you’re only trying to help.”  
  
“It’s fine,” the servant replied. “And it’s okay to be nervous. I don’t think you have anything to worry about... I just thought you might feel better if, maybe, you ran through the things you wanted to say.”  
  
Arthur smiled awkwardly. “I’d feel stupid!”  
  
“I could prompt you!” Merlin suggested.  
  
Arthur gave him a sceptical look.  
  
“Or maybe I could just sit here quietly?” 


	8. Chapter 8

Uther _knew_ something was up by the next day.  
  
Arthur and Gawain had failed to return and there had been no sighting of them since yesterday morning. They had officially gone. He had rattled on about it over breakfast to an apparently uncaring Anna. She had thought to tell Uther what was going on once he stopped shouting but that stop never came. So she sat there quietly trying to ignore him.  
  
He _knew_ something had to be going on.  
  
Moreover he had a good idea what it was—and it _infuriated_ him!  
  
He stormed into his Privy Council meeting, which Anna had been attending to, apparently to discuss the treaty. She sat at one end of the table with Áedh to her right, in quiet conversation with him when Uther entered directly behind her. The bang of the door startled everyone as he entered. As he took his place at the head of the table, he made his words brief.  
  
“Is there anything important on the agenda or can we leave it for tomorrow?” he grunted.  
  
They all stared at him; it was unlike Uther to be so dismissive of state affairs. Anna couldn’t suppress a smile.  
  
“Sire, you called us here to begin drawing up the treaty between your kingdom,” explained Sir Ector, “and Queen Anna’s kingdom.”  
  
The councillors all looked to Anna. She sat proud and regal at the table. They all noticed the faint smile on her red lips.  
  
“You were the one who wanted these talks, Uther” she said calmly. “They can be left for tomorrow... if you so desire. It was what I suggested after all.”  
  
Uther stared down the table at her. His expression was unfocused as he wanted to just stand at the window and wait for Arthur to appear or not appear. He wanted to send the guard out to find him, and Gawain. He barely had the presence of mind to notice Anna’s relaxed attitude to the whole thing. _Why isn’t she more concerned?_  
  
“Sire?” Ector asked questioningly.  
  
Uther didn’t look at him; he just stared at Anna. _She was hiding something!_  
  
Anna turned to Ector. “I think the king is concerned for his son’s absence. The treaty cannot be finalised without his signature after all.”  
  
She turned back to Uther and saw that he was still staring at her. Finally he spoke, saying the next few words calmly. “If there is no other business I would like to talk to you alone.”  
  
Anna’s smile widened, “Of course. Gentlemen?”  
  
The councillors and grooms got the message loud and clear. Uther and Anna got to their feet as the old men slowly began to vacate the room to leave the King and the visiting Queen to talk in private. They both stood in silence until the room was completely empty and silent. As soon as the door closed Anna elegantly turned to face her brother-in-law, linking her fingers at her front while Uther wandered towards the window.  
  
“Uther,” she began in an upbeat tone.  
  
“ _Anna_ ,” he replied, mocking her tone.  
  
Anna rolled her eyes.  
  
He continued to stare out of the window, waiting for Anna to respond but she did not. Uther knew she was playing one of her games. He knew her very well; she was not the kind to be furious but when she was angry she began to ‘play the game’ again, to manipulate people into accepting her way even if they had denied it.  
  
“You know where he’s gone, don’t you?”  
  
Anna tilted her head. “What do you mean ‘I’ know?”  
  
He looked over his shoulder at her; she was still standing, graceful and silent.  
  
“Arthur,” Uther said. “You know where he’s gone. I’m certain I know too—he’s gone to find that, that girl. Guinevere. And Gawain must have gone with them.”  
  
The younger woman just looked up at him, her only movement being the blinking of her eyes.  
  
“Tell me I’m wrong” he said.  
  
Anna shook her head. “I cannot say something is wrong when... well, when it is so obviously true.”  
  
Uther looked away again and shook his head, “Why didn’t you _agree_ with me last night, then?”  
  
She said nothing.  
  
“I’m surprised you have not yet voiced offense at Arthur’s behaviour.”  
  
“Why would I voice offence?” she asked. “I had expected him to be anything _other_ than pleased to see Elaine and myself here. He lived up to my expectations. To voice offence would sound like I was surprised.”  
  
“Nonetheless he could have made the effort.”  
  
“He is true to his own personality,” Anna said, defending her nephew much to the surprise of Uther. She then smiled and said, “Godknows where he gets _that_ from.”  
  
That was a question Uther couldn’t even answer to himself. He had always preached the self-righteous action of being true to your heart but never lived by the rule. In many ways life had always taught his generation to paint out their true feelings to present a front to the world. They were all guilty of it: Anna, Igraine, Tristan, Gorlois, Cador, Gaius and himself. He could look at Arthur’s actions with disgust but also a small tint of admiration...  
  
But he would never confess that to Anna.  
  
“Uther,” Anna said, clearing her throat after a long silence. “Why are you so keen to see my Elaine marry Arthur?”  
  
He looked out of the window again, silent.  
  
“You don’t even remember any more, do you?”  
  
“No, I do,” Uther finally said, trying to gather the reasons in his head. He failed to do so and instead back turned to Anna. “I’m just surprised you ask me—you helped organise this match as well...”  
  
“This has nothing to do with what I did,” Ana said firmly, not wanting to reveal her own intentions just yet. She wanted to know his mind without grabbing hold of his hand and reading it. She would never dare do that with Uther, too frightened that he would suspect something. “I asked you why you wanted this so much.”  
  
He shrugged. “There are many reasons, the primary one being that we have to keep the family bond strong...”  
  
“It _is_ strong,” Anna told him firmly. “I said a million times in my letters. The bond is strong because _I_ am here.”  
  
“And what if something were to happen to you?”  
  
“The bond would carry over to Gawain,” she told him, still firm and certain. “I have always had faith in your son. I think the _least_ you can do is employ some faith in mine.”  
  
“Lot does not rely on—”  
  
“I _know_ ,” she said, not wanting to hear him drone on about the same things he had in his letters. For months it had been nothing but this mindless drivel that he had scribbled down to her in private. “I know my husband is a risky ally but he is _not_ a mindless thug. He appreciates all the allies he can get. He relies on Camelot just as much as you do on Eidin. There is a war coming up, Uther. He’ll do anything to have Camelot’s armies firmly on his side—it won’t matter to him whether Arthur takes Elaine or not.”  
  
“We cannot rest all our hopes on the idea that Arthur and Gawain will maintain the alliance based on the fact they are cousins and friends,” Uther reminded. “We both know that.”  
  
“Why not?” she asked with the first reassuring smile she had given him all day. “You and I have managed the last twenty odd years to maintain our alliance based on the fact you were married to my sister,” before adding with a chuckle, “And we’re not exactly best friends. I don’t even like you that much.”  
  
Uther stared at her. “Thank you, Anna.”  
  
He shook his head, remembering how annoyed he was.  
  
“This is all beyond the point!” he shouted angrily. “Why aren’t you angry? Arthur has run off to find a former servant-girl and you are questioning _me_? You don’t even seem that surprised!”  
  
“That’s because I’m not.”  
  
“And what,” Uther spat, “this sudden understanding of great truth just came to you this morning?”  
  
Anna tilted her head to the other side and sighed. “You know that isn’t true, Uther. Don’t pretend not to understand. Don’t feed me this rubbish. You can’t fool me Uther Pendragon, you never could.”  
  
He glared at her. “You knew all along that Arthur had gone to meet that girl.”  
  
“Guinevere.”  
  
“So we’re calling her Guinevere now, are we?”  
  
“I think it’s only fitting given the circumstances.”  
  
The scar on his forehead was bulging at this point. “What circumstances?”  
  
Anna smiled. “Given that the girl will probably soon become your daughter-in-law.”  
  
Uther’s eyes were low and hot with anger.  
  
Had Anna not been a queen and a woman he would have smacked her at that moment. It was the way she stood there without a care in the world it seemed, messing with his head and relishing in his confusion and misery. At least that was how Uther saw it. Anna on the other hand might have told him a lot faster had he stopped ranting and raving for at least two seconds.  
  
She stepped forward. “I was going to tell you this morning but... well, you were shouting so much that I thought I’d put it off a bit longer.”  
  
“And watch me act like a fool?”  
  
“I wouldn’t have called you a fool” Anna replied. “More like a grumpy lout.”  
  
“And that is supposed to be better.”  
  
“At least a grumpy lout has common sense, a fool doesn’t. I’d never call you a fool, albeit you do choose to do things I question.”  
  
Uther braced and turned away. “This is no time for this conversation. We are talking about Arthur here.”  
  
“Indeed we are.”  
  
Uther felt his skin leap with surprise as his sister-in-law threaded her arm through his and smiled. He _hated_ it when she smiled _like that_. It was how he knew he had been had. She had been the same way since childhood in that respect. She was very different from the young girl she had been when Igraine was still alive; the girl who played tricks and constantly got into trouble due to being egged-on by Tristan. She was mature and steadfast now but there was still a spark of the old Anna inside her.  
  
He grumbled under his breath and Anna laughed. “There are worse things than this.”  
  
“How can you say that?” he snapped back.  
  
“Think about it,” she said, pausing for thought for a moment before she went on. “Your boy could have done a lot worse.”  
  
Uther stopped dead and looked down at her. “This is the worst thing he has ever done _to date_. He disobeyed me, turned his back on me over this girl and then I learn that you helped him engineer a plot to escape from Camelot not just to find this girl _but marry her_!”  
  
Anna rolled her eyes again.  
  
“I wasn’t talking about what Arthur has _actually done_. I meant the actual _girl_! I’ve heard she’s a nice little thing. Yes, she is a commoner but she is noble, clever and honest. Even _you_ agree with that.”  
  
He twitched beneath hand. “How do you know that?”  
  
“Oh really Uther!” she said with another smile. I know _everything_ , it said.  
  
Uther mumbled something under his breath and began pacing the room. He still didn’t quite understand why she was doing this and didn’t want to ask. He knew she would fully explain it now she had told him the truth about Arthur and Guinevere, but he didn’t want to ask at the risk of sounding stupid. He was nearly a decade older than Anna but even now they were adults and the age difference was no longer a vast he still didn’t want to confess to being bested by a younger monarch. A _woman_ , no less.  
  
Then another thought came to him, one he imagined Anna was waiting for him to ask. He stopped pacing and looked back to her.  
  
“She is a servant girl,” he suddenly announced.  
  
It was an obvious statement and one that no one had failed to miss. Yet Anna smiled proudly as she answered;  
  
“No she isn’t,” she said confidently. “She is legally the charge of Cador, the Duke of Cornwall. That is what she became the moment she stepped onto Cornish soil. The moment Cador agreed to take her and become responsible for her that is what she became. You and I agreed that the girl would not be a prisoner but simply put into Cador’s care, remember? It is no different to how Morgana is your charge.”  
  
“It is _entirely_ different!” Uther shouted. “Morgana is a _lady_. Guinevere is a _commoner_.”  
  
“There is no law against a prince marrying a commoner. If royalty were only ever allowed to marry those among the nobility we would all be inbred and sickly.”  
  
“There should be,” he mumbled childishly.  
  
“Oh grow up and stop sulking!” Anna snapped. “You haven’t changed, have you? You are still as haughty and stuck-up as ever... which is rich considering that you spent your own childhood in exile after Vortigern and Rowena saw the Pendragon clan off.”  
  
Uther folded his arms. “What is your point?”  
  
“My point is that if a granddaughter of Cunedda can look favourably on a commoner as a wife for a future king then surely a former upstart can too,” Anna concluded before giving Uther a coy look. “Especially one that was also at one time looked down on by elitist royalty until he was looked favourably upon by a granddaughter of Cunedda, one who could have simply married one of the Duke of Cornwall’s sons.”  
  
The king raised an eyebrow. “Are you referring to Igraine or yourself?”  
  
Anna lowered her eyes; why did everyone keep raising the subject of Cador? It was so many years ago and it wasn’t her fault if he still cared about her. She was still deeply fond of him too but she was no longer the same Lady Anna Dubois but Queen Anna of Orkney and Gododdin, wife of King Lot and mother to six children. Uther was not going to make _her_ feel bad by raking up _her_ past.  
  
“I’m merely stating that for you to look down on someone for being common is a bit hypocritical,” she said, refusing to jump and bite at Uther’s ‘Cador’ reference.  
  
Uther scoffed. “This is hardly the same thing. I may not have been born of one of the founding kings of Albion, or even the ancient families of Dumnonia but I was _not_ _a commoner_. My mother was a Breton from the royal family (Your father’s distant cousin) and my father was a Roman nobleman; he could trace his family line back to the great families of Rome.”  
  
“Your father was a usurper,” Anna said sharply. “Thirty years ago when you were Arthur’s age your background was far too uncertain and sketchy for Albion’s liking. It meant nothing to us back then. All that mattered to the tyrant Vortigern was that your family were ‘traitors’ and needed to be got rid of. At least this girl doesn’t have a dubious past.”  
  
The king stood in front of Anna again, trying to sum her up. She gave as good as she got, staring up at him with a straight face.  
  
“Why are you defending her? You don’t even know her!”  
  
Anna sighed. “I have a feeling.”  
  
“If that is all you’re basing this on, then you are doomed.”  
  
Anna could not tell Uther about the dreams. He would think her mad or a witch or something ridiculous like that. Instead she shook her head and sighed again. “You know very well this isn’t just about my feelings. I am doing this for political reasons too, things that will benefit both of us.”  
  
“Then please indulge me!” Uther shouted angrily, now fully frustrated with Anna’s tap dance around the issue. “I sure as hell can’t see it. You have come all this way with only to help _my_ son to backstab me—and your daughter—by running off to Tor to marry his lover, with the assistance of your son.”  
  
“Yes,” Anna said simply. “Well, actually, not about Elaine. She knows everything too.”  
  
The king shook his head. He had enough of this. The anger was clearly starting to explode inside of him. God, he longed for the days when he could punish Anna for her beguiling tricks by confining her to her chambers. He rushed towards the door. He banged loudly on it and shouted for his guard. The doorman was shoved backwards as Uther roughly opened the door as the doorman was about to open it.  
  
“Summon the guard immediately!” the king bellowed viciously.  
  
“Brilliant idea,” Anna said cheerfully. She was genuinely trying to calm his tone down. “Send for Áedh too! We should get our party together and make our way towards Tor. We have the treaty to finalise.”  
  
Uther took a deep, frustrated sigh as he heard the words ‘we have a treaty to finalise’. He turned slowly around like a panther on the prowl and walked towards her again. “What treaty? Didn’t you just admit to destroying the very foundations of the treaty by _conniving_ to help Arthur—?”  
  
Anna groaned at his slowness. “Uther, for goodness sake _think_! Why would I sabotage the treaty for no good reason?”  
  
Uther slumped pathetically into a chair. He was completely drained of energy.  
  
“You tell me,” he said gloomily. “I have given up on trying guessing your silly little games Anna. I don’t understand why you still play them. It would be much easier if you just got people to carry out your orders. People are not dolls, Anna.”  
  
Anna sighed thoughtfully. “Ah, I remember when I was nine and you used to tell me that. It’s a pity you have often failed to follow your own advice.”  
  
Her tone then became serious.  
  
“I do this because it’s the only way I can get what I want,” she confessed. “No man would ever agree to what I have set up. Don’t you see that if you make an alliance with Cador then not only do you gain military support but you have a chance of uniting Camelot and Cornwall again?”  
  
“That’s why you did it?”  
  
“There are many reasons why I did it,” Anna went on. “But the chief reason is that in times like these holding petty grudges against each other over something that happened thirteen years ago will do no one any good. I had to get you and Cador on the same side. Then when you came to me with this problem with Arthur I thought it was a gift from God.”  
  
Uther gasped for air. “How the hell do you think all this _nonsense_ up?”  
  
Anna immediately found herself thinking of her nightmares again. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”  
  
“I don’t believe anything when you’re concerned.”  
  
The queen felt sorry for her brother-king and found herself kneeling beside his chair. She reached for his wrist and smiled up at him. Uther always felt unnerved when Anna did things like this; but she wasn’t playing any tricks right now. She was genuinely trying to calm him down and make him understand.  
  
“I’m sorry you feel like I have manipulated you,” she began, and he scoffed. She sighed, “Alright, fine. I _have_ manipulated you—but I was thinking of our kingdoms and Cador’s duchy the whole time and what would be best for everyone. If I had told you my plans when I first came up with them you wouldn’t have approved.”  
  
“No, I wouldn’t” he mumbled into his glove. “I assume you told Cador, though.”  
  
“Not everything.”  
  
“He was _always_ a fool for you,” he said disdainfully.  
  
Anna bit her lip. “Do you understand why I did it?”  
  
“No, but I’m starting to” Uther said. “It doesn’t mean I agree.”  
  
“But secretly I imagine you’re glad to be out of this trap with Arthur,” she suggested. “At least this way we get to stay friends and Arthur might start speaking to you again... so as long as you don’t continue to oppose his choice of lady.”  
  
Uther shook his head. “There are so many things that could go wrong—” he paused as Anna’s face remained neutral, “Regardless of what this girl is now, no matter how we dress it up—she _was_ a servant and no marriage will change the fact that everyone in this kingdom knows her background.”  
  
“It’s not supposed to be easy,” the queen replied firmly. She got to her feet and brushed down her dress. “It’s no different from any other marriage. Love is all very well but you’ve really got to work at a marriage. I think these two are strong enough to make it after all they have been through. They seem stronger than most couples among the nobility.”  
  
Uther had run out of strength to protest. “But she’s a—”  
  
Anna groaned. “If you say the words ‘she’s a’ followed by either ‘commoner’ or ‘servant’ I will _lamp_ you. It’s not like you’re not getting something out of this; you keep my kingdom’s support, your son gets a larger army to lead into battle when Lot calls on you, and Cador told me he would even fix a dowry on the girl.”  
  
“ _Brilliant_ ,” Uther said sarcastically.  
  
He sat up and looked at her, hands clasped together on his knees.  
  
“So let me get this straight,” he said, picking up a detail that seemed to have been lost in the description of how and why Anna had done what she had. “You now want me to go with you to Tor, or nearby, to enter into alliance talks with Cador... and then you will finalise the treaty?”  
  
“Yes,” Anna said simply.  
  
There was a loud bang at the door. The guards entered and all filed into the room one by one at the king’s command. They were followed by the Orcadian ambassador Áedh. He bowed to the pair gracefully. “Your majesties; you called for us.”  
  
Uther looked to Anna and she looked to him. On this occasion the king of Camelot had to admit defeat. At least if this marriage was a disaster it might be easy to quash it than if it had been Elaine that Arthur was marrying. Uther wasn’t going to deny that since Gwen was exiled he had had doubts the match with Elaine, if not simply because of Arthur’s inability to forgive him for sending the girl away. And he would even admit that night when she left had had thought there was a hidden nobility inside her.  
  
That said she was still a commoner no matter how much Anna had tried to dress it up. Still Uther had no choice but to follow Anna’s lead. He would have her explain properly the details on the way to Tor.  
  
“Gather the Camelonian and Orcadian guard in the square,” Uther ordered the head guard. “Queen Anna and I intend to travel to Tor... immediately.”  
  
Anna walked out ahead before Uther could get any more out of her.  
  
Well she can’t avoid me in the hours it will take us to get from to this damned meeting with Cador, Uther thought. The thought of seeing Cador made him dread what was to come next. He dreaded it more than facing up to the prospect that Arthur had married Guinevere.  
  
The pair of them prepared themselves for the journey while rumours sped around the castle in regards to Arthur and Gwen. News said that they had found each other and were to marry, so the king was on his way to confront them. Others said that Queen Anna had organised talks with Cador for Camelot and that a marriage between Arthur and Gwen would be used to seal the alliance, now that Gwen was Cador’s charge. None of them had a clue just how accurate their rumours were.  
  
Before Anna left her apartments to meet up with Uther again, Elaine came in.  
  
“I hear you’re off then,” she remarked.  
  
Anna turned and smiled. “Indeed I am. I might be gone for a day or so if all goes to plan. We’ll return to Camelot with the girl I hope and a finalised treaty between Cador, Uther and our family.”  
  
“Just as you wanted,” Elaine said with a smile.  
  
The queen was about to leave when she noticed that her daughter’s smile was slightly off and distracted. She stopped and placed a hand on her shoulder, “Are you alright, sweetheart?”  
  
“I’m fine mother,” the girl said distantly. “I’m just wondering what it will be like to meet the girl. Guinevere. I’ve had dreams about her for so long... it’ll be strange.”  
  
“I feel the same way,” the mother confessed, stroking the daughter’s shoulder affectionately. “You haven’t told anyone about your dreams, have you?”  
  
Elaine shook her head. “I haven’t even told Morgana.”  
  
“Good. I don’t want her to know, or anyone for that matter,” Anna said firmly as if to make the point to her daughter. “I’m worried someone might find out. You are special Elaine and you are destined for special things.”  
  
“You never wanted me to marry Arthur at any point – did you?” the girl asked in wonderment.  
  
“No, I didn’t” Anna assured her. “I didn’t want you to marry Claudius, or any of the other men your father proposed for you. The only one I had a good feeling about was Percival, but it was many years since you were promised to him.”  
  
“I was three years old” Elaine chuckled. “It seems strange seeing him here in Camelot.”  
  
“Yes,” Anna agreed. She clutched her daughter’s shoulder tenderly once more before letting it go. “I have always believed you were special, Elaine. I stick by that fact. It’s a feeling I have, and you know I’m usually right about my feelings.”  
  
“So you aren’t disappointed in me?”  
  
Anna tilted her head, leant forward and kissed her daughter on the cheek. “I could never be disappointed in you. I love you and your brothers and sisters equally. I’m proud of all of you – and your cousin Arthur – and no matter what you do, that will never change.”  
  
Elaine’s smile widened; she was often grateful that her mother had lived to be the woman she was now, unlike her poor late aunt that none of them children had ever known, including Arthur.  
  
The travelling party made up of Camelonian and Orcadian guards assembled in the square as the King of Camelot and the Queen of Orkney appeared in the courtyard. There was buzzing excitement as people of all social status, class, position and ethnicity gathered around the two monarchs. It seemed the news of the prince’s actions had spread fast.  
  
“We have an audience,” Anna remarked as she mounted her horse.  
  
Uther soon followed and looked across to her. “Aren’t you going to tell me the details of this fiasco of a meeting you have planned for me?”  
  
“If you promise to listen like a sensible adult, of course” she sniped back. Had she not been a sovereign queen he might have thrown her in the dungeons for that.  
  
“Sometimes I can barely believe you and Igraine were sisters,” Uther grumbled quietly. “She would never betray and trick me like you do.”  
  
Anna just laughed.  
  
-  
  
Gawain woke to find the spots where Arthur and Merlin were sleeping empty.  
  
He jumped up with a start, worried that he had overslept. It was a silly thought as surely they wouldn’t have set off without waking him. Nonetheless he hurried got out of from under his sheepskins. The sound of the birding birds chirped away above his head as he pulled his shirt and boots on. He then swiftly set off to look for Arthur and Merlin through the orchids. It couldn’t be that he had overslept as the dew dampened his boots and the air was still fresh.  
  
As he made his way towards the end of the orchids Gawain could hear their voices wafting over from the fields. He walked towards it;  
  
_“I told you not to do the voice!”_  
  
“I was just trying to set the scene—”  
  
_“Don’t, it’s distracting!”_ Arthur reprimanded him. _“You sound nothing like Guinevere when you do that voice. You sound like—”_  
  
_“What?”_  
  
_“Like a sad manservant trying to do a generic girl voice.”_  
  
_“Fine, I won’t do the voice!”_ Merlin sulked.  
  
“Don’t say anything!” Arthur ordered him angrily. “Just tell me whether I sound stupid or not...”  
  
“Fine, get down on your knees and I’ll tell you,” Merlin said. Gawain came towards them just as Arthur got down on his knee. He tried to fight back a laugh. “I think you should take hold of one of her hands.”  
  
“I am _not_ taking hold of one of _your_ hands,” Arthur said firmly. He had enough of this silly practise session and knew it would be a bad idea anyway. He could never rely on Merlin to be sensible. Arthur pulled himself to his feet and noticed. “I’ve had enough of this—this is just making me more nervous.”  
  
He saw Gawain at the morning.  
  
“Good morning,” the younger prince said with a smile. He looked between Arthur and Merlin. “Did either of you two sleep last night?”  
  
“I got a few hours,” Arthur muttered, immediately turning to walk back into the orchids. “It was enough.”  
  
Merlin leaned closer to Gawain and whispered, “He didn’t get that much sleep. If he had gone to sleep properly, you’d know about it.”  
  
“Does he snore?”  
  
“Gwen says he snores like a pig,” Merlin chuckled in reply. “I’ve heard him too, while standing in the next room.”  
  
Gawain laughed. “I wouldn’t have noticed either way because I’m a pretty heavy sleeper.”  
  
“Let’s hope Gwen is too,” Merlin joked.  
  
The three men returned to camp and got the fire going again to make something to eat. Yet again Arthur was more interested in watching and waiting for any sign that someone was coming than the food Merlin had prepared for them. Then again Merlin wasn’t the best cook in the world; his culinary delights obviously didn’t impress Gawain either, who ate about half before declaring he was full. He didn’t want to hurt Merlin’s feelings needlessly, servant or not.  
  
“You don’t need to lie to him Gawain” Arthur muttered distractedly. “Merlin knows he can’t cook.”  
  
“At least you usually eat some of it,” Merlin retorted, indicating the prince’s barely touched plate.  
  
“Or else I’d die of starvation.”  
  
“You really should eat something more,” Gawain agreed with Merlin.  
  
“I’ve eaten three windfall apples already,” Arthur told them, and rubbed the back of his neck. “One nearly hit me on the head.”  
  
They then proceeded to wait. Gawain tried to keep the conversation going by asking Merlin about the knights of Camelot in order that he could put all the names to faces. Arthur only occasionally pitched in to either correct or make personal comments on a knight. Gawain asked about Percival, who his sister had spoken highly of before asking about Percival’s brother, Lamorak.  
  
“You knocked him off a horse in the May Day joust” Merlin reminded Gawain.  
  
“Little weasel deserved it,” Arthur said confidently.  
  
He would never forget what Lamorak had tried to do to Gwen. He had harassed her and treated her as if she were nothing. Arthur had every intention of making Lamorak’s life as difficult as possible. Hopefully with the upcoming war Pellinore would call both his sons back from their exile and then he wouldn’t have to deal with him although Percival would be a great loss to Camelot’s army. At least they were all on the same side.  
  
“What if they’ve got lost?” Arthur suddenly said, interrupting Merlin tell Gawain about Sir Kay’s upcoming marriage to Lady Bedivere. “What if something’s happened to her?”  
  
Merlin looked up. “Give it time it’s still early.”  
  
Arthur took a frustrated sigh, got to his feet and walked off ahead.  
  
“Where are you going?” Merlin and Gawain called in chorus.  
  
“For a walk,” he called back. “I need to clear my head.”  
  
Ironically Gwen was closer than they thought, and fearing that something would go wrong just as much as Arthur was. Her greatest fear was that he had been detained by Uther’s guards before Anna’s plan rolled into action. However unlike Arthur Gwen was keeping all her worst fears to herself. She didn’t want to lose face in front of Cador who had gone to all this trouble for her.  
  
The Cornish travelling party had only just arrived at Tor. They stood at the top of the valley overlooking the terrain of the large hill with the chapel at the top and the lines and lines of tall growing apple trees.  
  
Gwen could feel her heart thundering inside her chest; it made her breath come quick and her head feel light. It seemed unbelievable that after so many weeks apart she would finally see Arthur again. She would be able to hold him and feel him beneath her fingers. Being without him was like returning to the old days before they were lovers, when Arthur was distant and ghostly thing that could not be touched by her servant’s hands. To be with him and let him touch her with his own callus hands made him human. It made him more than just a fantasy.  
  
“Are you alright?” Cador asked.  
  
Gwen looked to him. The wind was blowing back the hood of her light blue cape and causing her hair to flick from side to side. “I’m fine,” she said shakily. “It’s just a little cold up here.”  
  
“We’d best get down into the orchids, the wind will be weaker down there,” he said, pointing straight ahead. “Then we can make our way towards the chapel atop Tor.”  
  
“It’s a steep climb,” Jermyn commented.  
  
“But well worth the pilgrimage,” Cador said, and he winked at Gwen.  
  
The duke motioned the rest of the party on as together they all rode swiftly down the side of the hill. There was a small stream sitting by the bottom of the hill where the forest of apple trees began. One by one Gwen, Cador, Jermyn, Ysgudydd (who had come with them to act as Gwen’s maid while Ysgyrdav remained at Tintagel) and the rest of the Cornish guard, jumped over the steam and stopped. They were surrounded by apple trees perfectly lined up for miles and miles.  
  
The air smelt wonderful.  
  
Everyone dismounted their horses. As soon as he climbed from his horse Cador turned immediately to help Gwen from hers. There was nothing but the sound of the wind, the birds and the horses snorting from the hill-ride.  
  
“It’s beautiful,” Ysgudydd said wearily.  
  
“We’ll make our way to Saint Michael’s within the next hour” Cador explained to his men. He then turned to Gwen. He knew she would want to try and find Arthur; he was the reason they had really come. “Do you wish to walk alone, or would you rather someone came with you?”  
  
Gwen took a deep breath; she didn’t even know whether Arthur had made it there or not. She feared what would happen if she bumped straight into him, how she would react. She feared even more that she would miss him entirely, as this orchid was like a straight maze.  
  
She turned to Cador. “I think I’ll be safe on my own. This is a holy land, after all. I’ll come back if I don’t find anyone.”  
  
“Are you sure?” he asked again. “Ysgudydd could go with you if you don’t want it to be me.”  
  
She shook her head. “It’s fine. She’s tired so let her sit down. I’d like to look around on my own.”  
  
Cador sighed and said, “Very well.”  
  
He was glad for her but also sad to be losing her. Cador knew once she found Arthur they would never let each other go and, like a father bidding farewell to a daughter, he would have to watch on and simply be happy for her. He was happy for her, but sorry to lose the person that had coaxed him out of his shell at Tintagel. It hadn’t just been Anna’s plan that drove him to protect this girl; it was a duty he felt he owed to Tom. He wondered if maybe, had he not closed himself off after Gorlois’s death, he might have been above to intervene on his behalf to Uther. It was too late to dwell on that now.  
  
“Cador,” Gwen called.  
  
He turned around.  
  
She smiled. “Thank you.”  
  
He smiled too. “It’s my pleasure.”  
  
Gwen made her way straight ahead down one of the long pathways lined completely with apple trees. They were all coming into season and the large green rocks were falling from the weak branches that could no longer maintain them. As she looked up she wondered who it was that harvested the apples – the high priests, the elders or maybe the monks? She wasn’t sure.  
  
She climbed over to the other parallel path closer to the rolling fields that led to the hill of Tor. The two trees she had to sidetrack to get onto it were particularly bounteous in fruit. It was good news for whoever it was that picked them. Her cape and dress ruffled against the bark as she climbed past through and landed on the dusty path with a small thud of her feet. Whoever had first planted these trees obviously hadn’t realised how big they eventually grew.  
  
Gwen took a deep breath and turned around. She was completely out of sight of the Cornish travelling party and Cador. She wondered if she’d be able to find her way back if she didn’t find anyone else.  
  
She walked along the trees admiring the sun as it glistened through the leaves and apples of the branch canopies above her head. The blue morning sky was visible directly above her head and the morning air was blowing the branches, causing more apples to fall to the ground.  
  
Suddenly everything went deathly silent as a large but young bird of prey swooped over head. The smaller birds stopped chirping and the mice stopped scurrying. Gwen watched it glide effortlessly over the terrain above her head. She was entranced by its display before it finally swooped down to somewhere out of sight beyond the trees, doubtless clawing for some mouse or shrew.  
  
Gwen stepped forward into the clearing and stared at the sky that the bird had occupied. She smiled and hoped it had succeeded it achieving what it was aiming for.  
  
Absentmindedly she turned her head to look down the path. Then she was frozen.  
  
Arthur was stood right in the direction she was looking.  
  
He had been coming in the opposite direction and watched the same bird of prey flying above their heads. He had not noticed Gwen standing to the side behind the trees and was only alerted to there being someone else there once she stepped into the clearing.  
  
The moment he saw her he too was frozen to the spot.  
  
Everything went still again. The wind stopped blowing, the birds were silent again and even the apples stopped falling from the trees. They stared at each other as if not quite believing that they were facing each other.  
  
To their eyes they looked perfect to each other; the sun made them look golden, like objects divine. The natural light helped create that illusion but it was more to do with the great and painful longing them had experienced being forcibly separated without goodbye and with belief they would never see each other again.  
  
Remembering the hours she had secretly wept at the thought that she would never see Arthur again and that he would marry someone else caused tears to well up in Gwen’s eyes.  
  
She took a few steps forward. That was the moment Arthur came out of his daze and realised that she truly was there. He just wanted to watch her walk slowly towards him. He wanted to take in just how beautiful she looked especially in this light, in the dress she was wearing and with her hair loose about her shoulders...  
  
But that train of thought broke as Gwen stopped walking slowly and ran towards him. Arthur immediately rushed towards her too. He didn’t want to stand admire her like he had trying desperately to remember every detail about her during their separation. He wanted to hold her, touch her and kiss her.  
  
When they finally collided Gwen threw her arms around his neck and Arthur wrapped his arms around her with such passionate that he lifted her from the ground, capturing her lips with his.  
  
This contact sent shocks of emotion through their bodies. _It had been so long_. They clutched each other tighter and deepened their kiss as much their mouths and tongues would allow. It was like they were physically fused together. Their hold on each other and their maddening kiss became so tight and powerful that they became delirious.  
  
They almost collapsed in a heap.  
  
Arthur placed her down on the ground again. They broke the kiss, gasping for air lest they both faint. Gwen looked dreamily into his eyes, her own eyes hooded with pure love and passion. They stood staring at each other for five seconds. Nothing but their panting breaths sounded in their ears.  
  
Their emotions began to heighten again.  
  
Gwen smiled wide with happiness and Arthur reciprocated with his own ecstatic grin. They recaptured each other’s lips, immediately coaxing each other’s mouths open again. Arthur’s hands spread down to her waist and he picked her up again, this time swinging her around and around. Gwen’s chuckle was muffled through their kiss. Then when he placed her down again and their second passionate kiss was broke they proceeded to kiss each other fleetingly and repeatedly, over and over again...  
  
They huskily spoke in between each kiss:“ _Arthur_ ” _“Guinevere”_ “ _I never thought..._ ” “ _I know_ ” “ _I can’t believe it’s you... oh god_!” “ _I thought of you every day_ ” “ _I never stopped thinking about you_ ” “ _Never?” “Never” “Arthur...” “Gwen. Gwen. Gwen.” “...Tell me you love me.” “You know I do.” “I love you too...”_  
  
They broke the succession of kisses and remained still for a moment, forehead to forehead.  
  
Arthur held Gwen before him by her shoulders. She looked up at him with a face that could only be described as ‘charged’. Her smile was still creeping up across her face and she brought one of the hands she had knotted into Arthur’s hair.  
  
“I never want to stop kissing you,” Gwen gasped, and kissed him again and then again, “Never.”  
  
He stroked his hand through her hair and she hummed a delighted ‘hmmm’ as her kisses continued from his lips to his neck. Then it was him that made the ‘hmmm’ of approval.  
  
“Then never stop.”  
  
Gwen made no reply other than to kiss Arthur’s neck more frantically, taking in the taste and scent of his skin. She reached up to his ear lobe and gently ran her tongue around it. Arthur pulled her closer and buried his cheek against her temple. He took in the feeling of her lips, tongue and occasionally teeth caressing his ear. He closed his eyes and wondered thought about what he wanted to ask her. Then he heard her whisper “ _I love you_ ” again. The scorching feeling it sent to his nerves made him cease the moment.  
  
Arthur pulled her away from him and looked her dead in the eyes. He had forgotten all the (pointless) advice and practising Merlin had put him through and just came out and said it. “Marry me.”  
  
He didn’t even say ‘ _will you_ ’, just... “Marry me.”  
  
She took a sharp intake of breath. She didn’t quite believe that he had just said that. That he had just asked her the thing she had longed to hear from him but never thought she would. Never in her life did Gwen think that Arthur would say “Marry me”, but he just had. It took all her common sense and self-control (which was wavering bit by bit) that stopped her screaming _“Yes!”_ immediately.  
  
“But your father—” she began in shock.  
  
“Forget about my father,” Arthur said passionately. “Forget my father, forget Elaine, my aunt, my title... _forget everything_! It’s just you, me and Camelot... I love you. I want to marry you, be with you, and have children with you and... There is no other woman on earth that I want to do any of that with other than you. Marry me, now.”  
  
Gwen looked into his eyes and tried to read his expression. She didn’t know what she was looking for—honesty, madness, love. There was plenty of love. It was a look that once upon a time when she was just a servant and he was a prince Gwen had once never imagined she would see in Arthur’s eyes, and even if she had, it would not be directed at her. But it _was_ when he looked at her, and _only_ when he looked at her. It was a look that spoke volumes more than the words ‘I love you’ ever could.  
  
“Arthur,” she said, finally finding the words she wanted. “Are you asking me because you want to marry me, or because you don’t want to marry Elaine?”  
  
The question stung Arthur but he understood why she asked it. “Because I want to marry _you_ ,” he said earnestly, so much so it sounded like he was chocking on his breath. “I cannot bring myself to marry anyone—because it means I can never have _you_.”  
  
Gwen swallowed. “You already ‘have’ me.”  
  
“But I don’t!” he exclaimed, and clutched her hand. He held on to it like it was the only thing keeping him upright. “I _don’t_ have you, certainly not now. My father exiled you because it was his only chance of convincing me to marry Elaine.”  
  
She looked away. “I heard that you were to sign the agreement to marry Elaine...”  
  
He freed one of his hands and cupped her chin. “If you heard that then it’s a lie. I haven’t even spoken to my father since you left, I—I never could bring myself to forgive him for taking you from me.”  
  
Gwen smiled, moved by his words. “He could never take me away from you. I have always been yours, even though I was so far away.”  
  
“And I will always be yours too,” Arthur said softly, “If you’ll let me.”  
  
“Arthur... I’m worried for you,” she said, leaning forward until her forehead touched his chin. “Regardless of your aunt’s plan; regardless of whether she can convince Uther and Cador to go along with it and regardless of the war... a prince must marry someone of noble birth. I maybe dressed up and made to look like a lady... but I’m still a commoner.”  
  
“I don’t want a lady,” Arthur said firmly. “I want a _woman_. I want you and nothing anyone says or does will ever change that.”  
  
Arthur cupped her face again, this time with both his hands and held it so close that they could feel their warm breaths against each other’s skin. They both smiled at each other.  
  
“We knew from the start that it wouldn’t be easy,” he whispered sensuously. It made Gwen shiver delightfully. “We once said we would keep going until we stop; I never want to stop. I know getting married won’t end the prejudice but if we love each other enough then I know we’ll make it through any problem we face.”   
  
He reached for one of her hands and placed it against his heart. She could feel it beating warmly beneath her fingers. As if feeling his kisses and embraces wasn’t enough to convince her that Arthur truly was standing there before her saying these things, then the beat of his heart did.  
  
“This is yours,” Arthur said simply, his voice cracked from emotion.  
  
There weren’t enough words to describe how much he loved her. Not even one of his letters could express it. Not even a legend or story retold throughout the ages could capture how he felt. Only Arthur could understand how much he loved Guinevere, and he knew that no one could possibly love her as much as he did.  
  
Gwen was silent. She had suspected from Cador’s all-knowing behaviour and optimistic certainty that he had to knew something wonderful was going to happen here at Tor. It was more wonderful than Gwen would ever have dreamt. Her heart felt as if it might explode within her chest; she was struck dumb by her anticipation. She took hold of his free hand and placed it firmly against her left breast so that he could also feel her pounding heart.  
  
“And this is yours,” Gwen said slowly, tears welling in her eyes. “It keeps going because of you.”  
  
He still kept her going even now.  
  
“Guinevere,” Arthur choked tenderly.  
  
He wanted to choose the right words but found it very hard. He had thought about writing down what he wanted to say but decided to say it purely from the heart. He only wished he was more at one with words. The truth was anything he said at that moment would have sounded beautiful to her. His inadequacy with words and nervousness had always been a trait Gwen adored about him. Arthur’s uncertainty showed how honest his feelings were, how they consumed him...  
  
“I wouldn’t ask anything unless I truly meant it and you know that.”  
  
She knew that was true.  
  
“This isn’t something I have impulsively decided to ask you,” Arthur went on, and tightened his grip on the hand covering his heart. “This is something that I have wanted to ask you for a long time now.” He tensed up with the anger he felt with his father over everything that has happened. “Then my father sprung this thing upon me,” he loosened himself and smiled down at Gwen’s shining eyes, “but never did I let it hinder my hopes. It was either you or no one.”  
  
Gwen sighed. Their relationship for all its romance had been hard, painful and difficult from the moment they faced each other that night on May Day. They knew it would be a tough journey – as Arthur had rightly said so – from the moment they gave in to their yearning. The pain they had endured would have broken apart even the strongest love. Yet here they were. Arthur had fought so hard for her, the handmaiden. Gwen had suffered so much for him, the prince. They were still drawn back together and they still loved each other.  
  
Arthur brought rest his forehead against Gwen’s again, their hands trapped together between them.  
  
“You don’t have to marry me now but...” and he freed one hand to retrieve the ring from his pocket, “all I ask is for a promise that – if you love me as much as I love you –you will take this ring and one day marry me. If you make me that promise then I could wait forever. I just need to know that one day...”  
  
Arthur’s words made happiness wash completely over Gwen. Marriage would join them together but the pressure would still be on them. The oncoming war would drag them apart and society would still sneer. But Gwen believed that their love would endure and Arthur’s words confirmed it. She knew it would endure. It always had and it always would.  
  
She didn’t want to waste a second longer fearing anyone else. This was about her and Arthur. It was only about them.  
  
“Arthur,” Gwen said a little shakily through her smile. She placed her hands on either side of his face and brought him closer still so that they were nose to nose. They both laughed before she kissed him again.  
  
He kissed her back. When he broke it he saw her expression was calm and determined. He waited for what she had to say.  
  
“Ask me again,” she said softly. Arthur felt his chest tighten and Gwen finally let her smile spread across her face. She took his hands and said the words again. “Ask me again and I will answer.”  
  
Arthur did not hesitate a moment longer. Smiling modestly and still holding her hands he went down on his knees. He wanted to do it properly this time. There was a moment’s beat before he finally said the words.  
  
“Guinevere, will you marry me?”  
  
She chuckled happily before falling into him. She dropped to her knees in front of him so that they were level and wrapped her arms around his neck again. Before she at last kissed him again, she gave him her answer.  
  
“Yes.”  
  
The moment she finally said “Yes” Arthur kissed her as madly as he had when he first saw her standing there, looking for him. They stood there on their knees for what felt like forever, just kissing each other at length, and over and over again. Had it been a fantasy rather than reality they might have laid down there beneath the trees and continued to kiss and caress. But they had a wedding to go to.  
  
Arthur pulled Gwen to her feet and, without a moment’s thought, swept her off the ground without any effort. She laughed a kept clutching to her neck.  
  
“Where’s Cador?” he immediately asked.  
  
She pointed ahead. “He’s just through those trees, him and a whole party from Cornwall. He’s not just here to unite us; he’s here on a pilgrimage.”  
  
“Good for him.” Arthur hoisted Gwen up securely and began to walk on before he remembered Merlin and Gawain. He groaned and turned around, still holding Gwen, “Merlin! Gawain! We’re going to Saint Michael’s, hurry up!”  
  
Gwen laughed. “You brought both Merlin and Gawain?”  
  
“I thought we needed witnesses,” he told her seductively. “But now it seems we’re going to have a whole damned pilgrimage as an audience.” He turned around and shouted again. “Come on, you two! Shake a leg!”  
  
He then proceeded in the direction Gwen had told him.  
  
She laughed again. “You can put me down if you want.”  
  
“No, I like this. It makes me feel romantic.”  
  
Merlin and Gawain rushed out through the trees to the path that Arthur and Gwen were on at that moment. The sight of them together was undoubtedly a relief to both. They looked at each other and grinned before they followed on after them. From here they would meet with the Cornish party and then Merlin would finally meet this uncle of Morgana, the famous Cador. Then it would be to the chapel and then... then another story would begin.  
  
Merlin couldn’t help bursting out laughing. He hoped it would be an even better story than the one that had ended here.  
  
And to think it all started with a letter!   
  
...  
  
_“You are not going to carry me all the way up that hill!”_  
  
_“I’ll take you all the way to the altar or die trying.”_


	9. Epilogue

Arthur awoke the next morning.  
  
The sound of birds and the last drips of rain ebbed into his consciousness. He finally opened his eyes at a disgracefully late hour. He lay on his back completely dazed yet invigorated. The sun was shining so brightly through the red curtains straight ahead that it was clearly at least ten or even eleven in the morning. The fact was it was almost noon.  
  
He stared blurredly towards the light and, for a brief and worried moment, Arthur wondered whether all the memories that he had of the day and night before – of finding Gwen and marrying her at Tor; of meeting his father and aunt and them all returning to Tintagel; of the new and ratified treaty between Uther, Cador and Anna; and of retiring to bed with Guinevere and making love to her deliriously for the first time since her exile – had all been a dream or early morning fantasy.   
  
But it only lasted a moment. Arthur knew it had to have all happened. He remembered the anticipation he felt as he, Gawain and Merlin travelled towards Tor, the dread of waiting for Gwen to arrive and the overwhelming joy he felt the moment he saw her. He remembered carrying her towards the chapel. He remembered that they had to stop mid-way as the hill was so steep.  
  
_“Maybe I should try carrying you?”_ Gwen had joked as he picked her up again.  
  
Arthur had managed to laugh. _“A tiny little thing like you couldn’t even tackle a bulky chap like me.”_  
  
_“We’ll see about that tonight.”_  
  
_“I can’t wait to see you try—”_  
  
_“Oi!”_ Cador had gasped as he trekked along behind then, both Gawain and Merlin giving him assistance as he stumbled backwards. He spoke in a stern (yet clearly joking) voice. _“I’ll be having none of that! I’m a modern man, Arthur Pendragon and realise you have had pre-marital relations with my charge here... but no dirty talk until she has that ring on her finger.”_  
  
Then there had been the walk to the chapel. The small travelling party waited outside as the altar was just a tiny room in the chapel. Only Cador, Ysgudydd, Merlin, Gawain and the bride and groom themselves were inside. That didn’t stop the travelling party poking their heads through the door, and silently waiting for the priest to appear.  
  
Arthur nudged Gwen playfully and smiled. _“We’ve only got two people on each side.”_  
  
_“I have a whole party from Cornwall,”_ she corrected him. _“They just can’t fit in the chapel.”_  
  
_“I guess you’re more popular than I am.”_  
  
“ _Indeed_ ,” Gwen whispered teasingly. _“Merlin is my friend too, you know. He could easily be on my side as well.”_  
  
The ceremony was very simple. Cador gave Gwen away and both Merlin and Gawain messed around while trying to hand Arthur the wedding ring. The priest tied their hands together and personally wished them all the luck in the world. He wasn’t so detached from Dumnonian politics to know that the man was Prince Arthur of Camelot and the girl was not a princess or lady of any kind. He also knew the absence of Uther could only mean this was an elopement of some kind. Most of the marriages conducted at Tor were elopements.  
  
They kissed for the first time as husband and wife to the excited applause of Merlin, Gawain, Cador, Ysgudydd and everyone else that had accompanied them to Tor. Like their previous kisses it had lasted longer than a virtuous kiss on the lips accustomed to weddings. Even the presence of the priest didn’t deter them from making their kiss last no less than ten seconds.  
  
When it finally broke they remained nose to nose, smiling.  
  
_“You’re stuck with me now,”_ Arthur said sexily.  
  
She stroked his cheek lovingly. _“Thank goodness!”_  
  
It wasn’t just the vividness that stopped Arthur fearing for too long that it had all been a dream. It was the realisation that the bed in which he was lying in wasn’t his and the room was a completely different layout to any bed in Camelot. He was also comforted by the fact that it wasn’t the twittering of birds that he could hear from the window but the sound of water. The only birds that were audibly clear were the seagulls.  
  
But that wasn’t all.  
  
He felt a hand rest gently onto the centre of his bare chest. Arthur turned his head away from the window and looked up. In his weary state he hadn’t thoughtful about the pressure resting on his abdomen. It was only then he realised that Gwen was sitting on top of him, straddling his stomach. Her expression watched him curiously, her hair was loose about her shoulders and she was, Arthur noted pleasantly, very naked.  
  
Then again so was he. She looked down at him with an air of entitlement. He couldn’t stop staring at her.  
  
Gwen chuckled. “I see it still takes you a while to get going in the morning.”  
  
Arthur took all of three seconds to make his reply. “That’s what _you_ think!”  
  
He immediately sprung into action, rolling Gwen off from on top of him to under him and pinned her beneath him with fuelled and passionate kisses. It didn’t take a lot for Arthur to become aroused in the ‘morning’ when Gwen was concerned. Especially with the euphoria of last night still fresh in his mind. Just thinking about it made him want her all the more now. Never had he really had the chance to enjoy her ‘physical company’ first thing in the morning or even the pleasure of having her remain with him all night after they slept together.  
  
It still hadn’t quite sunk in yet that they were married. _Married_!  
  
As Gwen looped her arms around Arthur’s neck and hooked one leg around his waist the thought came to both of them. No longer were they doing this with fear of someone catching them and walking in on them. Now they were married the lovemaking was to be encouraged; babies come faster to young, energetic and ‘loved-up’ couples. Not that having a child was on their minds. Certainly not!  
  
But they were actually married!  
  
Gwen hummed in pleasure at that mere thought as Arthur kissed her lips over and over again with tenderness yet hunger. Now she could kiss him whenever she liked. And touch him...  
  
He gasped as she reached to touch a particular part... just because she could. “Guin _evere_...”  
  
She laughed and kissed him again.  
  
The only thing they had to fear now were giggles from Merlin and Gawain as well as a possible tut from Uther once they finally emerged from the bedchamber at lunchtime. Not to mention an accompanying by a joke that Cador was certain to say, the one about them being allowed to spent the day in bed given that they were ‘newlyweds’.  
  
Yesterday evening when Uther realised there was nothing he could do about the nuptial union he agreed to enter talks with Cador (with Anna present) but not before he bashed Cador for his role in the entire affair. The Duke hadn’t paid much attention. The moment that Uther and Anna arrived at Tor to meet with him he had focused more on Anna. The King of Camelot was not surprised, given that she was a co-conspirator and the unmarried Duke’s only love.  
  
Anna did not play on that fact though and seemed to try and maintain a respectable distance between them. Nonetheless she still smiled cheerfully when Cador saw her for the first time in years and said; _“Anna Dubois... longer time goes on, the more beautiful you become.”_  
  
Uther was having none of this nonsense. _“I will hear these talks but not before I speak my mind!”_  
  
_“Surprise, surprise,”_ Cador said sarcastically.  
  
_“The way the pair of you have approached this alliance is a_ disgrace _on the title of queen and duke,”_ he snapped back at him, giving Cador the ‘evil’ scar of doom.   
  
_“Just because it was too clever for you to figure out,”_ Cador remarked.  
  
Anna stepped in at that moment. _“We are not here to fight. These personal grudges mean nothing now we are here. I suggest we return to Tintagel and discuss this alliance like monarchs responsible for land and people, not pathetic little children.”_  
  
Arthur, Gwen, Gawain and Merlin watched the entire exchange from a hillside curiously. Uther glanced in their direction and leaned closer to Anna and Cador. _“It is all very well for you two making this plan but I’m the one that has to prepare_ that girl _for respectable society.”_  
  
Cador scowled. _“I don’t appreciate my charge being referred to as ‘that girl’, Uther. I don’t refer to my niece in that way in front of you, and how dare you suggest that Guinevere is unfit for your_ _tin-pot_ _kingdom. She’s worth_ a million _of the simpering sheep populating_ your _court.”_  
  
_“And the society on your_ own _tin-pot castle on Tintagel is so much better? How rich that you are so protective of a girl you have been protector of for all of four weeks,”_ Uther snapped sarcastically.  
  
_“Our ears are burning!”_ Arthur shouted over from the hill top to his father. His expression was stony although he clutched Guinevere close to him.  
  
Uther turned back to Cador.  
  
_“Fine, I don’t appreciate the daughter of my old friend_ – that you killed _– being referred to as ‘that girl’,”_ Cador retaliated harshly _. “I came here to make peace with the past, Uther. I came on a pilgrimage to be of use to Albion. I am more than happy to talk with you. However if you continue to talk to me in this way I will gladly take my gold, my armies and promise of land elsewhere.”_  
  
Anna glared at Uther (and Cador) for their idiotic arguing. It just proved her point that men should stick to being warriors and let the women take care of forging the alliances. She understood that Uther was angry but after she had explained at length the purpose and plan the whole way to Tor she had hoped Uther would behave a little bit better. How foolish of her to think so!  
  
_“You embarrass no one but yourself,”_ Anna scolded him quietly.  
  
Uther felt uncomfortable about the way she said that; she almost sounded like Igraine when she reprimanded him for his hotheadedness. It was the only trait (Apart from physical aspects such as blonde hair) that Anna seemed to share with Igraine; the ability to make him feel guilty without actually yelling at him.  
  
That was the point he finally decided to let his anger go. Or at least buried it inside him so that he wouldn’t get talked down to by Anna any more. He agreed that given the circumstances it was vital that they came to an agreement over the treaty and that he would go with everyone back to Tintagel to work it out.  
  
It had been a spectacular sight for the people of Cornwall once the now even larger party had crossed over the border at the Tamar and on their way to Tintagel. It had been many years since they had seen their Duke never mind see him inviting other rulers over to his castle at Tintagel.  
  
It was already late afternoon by the time they returned to the castle. They all got off the ferry. Cador and Uther fought over which one of them would help Anna out of the boat as, for some reason, Uther did not trust Cador with his former sister-in-law. His concern over the matter made Anna’s eyes roll. Merlin was perplexed by the whole thing and started to wonder whether there was a past hidden somewhere between Cador and Anna.  
  
But Anna was sensible and merely thanked both of them indifferently for the aid. She could have got out of the boat herself.  
  
Arthur and Gwen had been caught in their own world, barely noticing the arguments and petty histories between the ‘adults’. Anna, however, noticed the dreamy state the new couple were in and quickly took an opportunity of introducing herself to Guinevere properly. _“I hope to see you more often,”_ she said with a smile before she left to aid the two men in the treaty plotting, _“If you ever need any help or support then just let me know. Both of you.”  
_  
Gwen realised then where Prince Gawain had inherited his loyalty. Despite having been a woman that Gwen had feared above all others for so long during her relationship with Arthur, it seemed she had completely misjudged the northern queen. She too hoped to see more of her and fully intended to seek Anna’s help in the future. Now she too was a royal lady she felt she would need it.  
  
_“I’ve always liked my aunt,”_ Arthur confessed as he and Gwen walked alone on the hills and cliffs above the water. He wanted to get a feel of the life his wife had been leading the last few weeks. _“When I was a child she was always kind to me. She’s the only member of my mother’s family I know. I always imagine my mother looking similar to her.”_  
  
Gwen slipped her hand into his as she glanced quickly behind her; Merlin and Gawain were also walking along the cliffs about ten metres behind them. They knew to keep their distance from both the couple and the three monarchs trying to reach an agreement.  
  
Arthur smiled and clutched her hand tightly. _“I never thought I’d see you again.”_  
  
_“Well, you did. No matter what happens during those talks they can’t keep us apart now,”_ Gwen said, and drew herself closer to him. Her hands rested steadily on his chest.  
  
He smiled and leaned down to give her a kiss which, like so many of the others today, she reciprocated gladly. All she could think about was the fact that he was here with her now and that nothing could take him away from her. She wouldn’t let it, and neither would he.  
  
Arthur broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against hers. _“Is it so indecent to be thinking about going to bed?”_  
  
Gwen laughed. _“We should probably wait until your father and aunt finish talking with Cador. They might want to...”_  
  
_“What?”_  
  
_“I don’t know... talk to us?”_  
  
The prince chuckled. _“Talk to us? Alright fine, we’ll wait for them to finish but – like I said – I intend to bid them goodnight.”_  
  
Gwen wrapped her arms around his neck. _“I’ll bet you do.”_  
  
The talks went surprisingly well once Uther realised exactly what he was getting out of the alliance. Anna knew if all else failed in getting Uther to see reason she could dazzle his eyes with offers of protection and money to keep him calm. She knew his main fear was falling victim to an attack; his greatest fear (apart from the four kings turning on him) was Cenred allying with Claudius and the Mercians as he was an ally of Bayard, and invading Camelot.  
  
_“I highly suggest that you arrange peace and alliance talks with the neighbouring kingdoms of Camelot,”_ Anna told Uther two hours into the meeting. _“Cador is protected by three and two thirds borders of water but you our surrounded by frightened minor kings who might be persuaded to turn on you if they think Cenred will attack. He hates them just as much as you.”_  
  
_“I have always been on good terms with Olaf and Margh,”_ Uther said.  
  
_“Margh is an old man,”_ Cador reminded Uther. _“Very soon he might be dead, and he has always named you and Arthur as protectors of his kingdom. The other kings are_ all _friends with Margh. I think it would be best if you go to him and suggest an alliance. He will be able to nudge the others towards Camelot.”_  
  
_“All the kings have wordlessly agreed that Arthur is the natural heir to all the kingdoms,”_ Anna added, as if she needed to remind Cador of the fact. _“All except Melwas. He is only in his thirties and might yet marry and have children.”_  
  
_“You should get in there fast,”_ Cador told Uther with sudden urgency. _“Get Melwas into an alliance before he can openly challenge Arthur. Like Anna said Melwas is young—he might even try to marry Olaf’s daughter to strengthen his claim in Dumninia over Arthur’s.”_  
  
Anna laughed. _“I hear the girl is a trial and a fool. Her father keeps her very snug.”_  
  
_“That won’t matter to Melwas if he gets what he wants,”_ Cador reminded her. _“He can’t keep her smug forever; she’ll have to marry one day.”_  
  
There had followed a long silence.  
  
_“I imagine the kings would be more willing to fall behind you Uther if you finalised this treaty with Cador and I immediately,”_ Anna said softly. _“No one in the south is as frightened of my husband’s wrath as they are of Cador’s ‘idleness’.”_  
  
Cador smiled.  
  
Uther nodded. _“Very well. I finally see what you have been saying, Anna. We must finalise this treaty at once and let it be known throughout the land that Uther, Cador and Lot (or rather you, Anna) have signed a binding contract of alliance.”_  
  
Anna grinned and said, “ _Halleluiah!_ ”  
  
After that the discussions went on without a hitch. They drafted up the finalised document with the help of some of the officials Uther and Anna had brought with them to Tintagel (Áedh had been one of them) and Cador’s own officials boated in for the day from the mainland. It was agreed that that the treaty of alliance should be signed in a public ceremony and, so it appeared to all and sundry that the alliance had always been as it was now (Rather than being a brilliantly engineered plot by the Orcadian queen), that the ceremony would be held in Camelot. It would avoid Uther looking like a fool in front of the other kings.  
  
_“After all,”_ Anna told Uther as they added the final touches to the treaty, _“the other kingdoms don’t know for certain what is going on. The spies for other kingdoms know you and I have been in contact with Cador – they don’t know it was over the exile of ‘Guinevere’ – and all know I have travelled to Camelot to finalise a treaty. If Cador announces the same then all will be saved.”_  
  
_“They’ll find out that the girl—”_  
  
_“Your daughter-in-law”_  
  
_“Is... of the background she is.”_  
  
Anna shrugged. _“Like I said she is now – and will be announced as – the charge of the Duke of Cornwall. I doubt any of your petty southern kings will say anything bad about her publically. They’ll be too frightened of Cador now he’s back into society.”_  
  
_“And what about the alliance they thought we were setting up for Elaine?”_  
  
_“It was just a rumour,”_ Anna assured him. _“Nothing was ever signed officially stating that Arthur would marry Elaine. It’ll all be forgotten in a few weeks time, nothing to worry about.”_  
  
It was late by the time they had agreed on the best terms and plans for the treaty. It was the usual sort of thing; armies would be promised to Lot and in return the kingdoms of the north would protect the interests of Camelot (and her allies, Anna added); the alliance between Camelot and Cornwall would be strengthened by the marriage between the prince of the former and the adopted daughter of the latter, and Cador agreed that his land would be passed on to Arthur upon his death. The list was endless and exhaustive of every tiny detail.  
  
When the three peacemakers finally emerged from the study it was already evening. They walked into the dining room to find everyone taking dinner together. Arthur and Gwen, Gawain, the officials from Camelot, Eidin and those at Tintagel, and even Merlin were all celebrating the marriage of the new royal couple. Uther commented on the presences of servants and nobility all eating dinner together as being ‘unorthodox but expected’ given that the only friends the bride probably had were servants. Arthur might have launched at him had Gwen not just chuckled at what the king said; never before she would have dared to do that.  
  
Anna laughed too. _“Just ignore him. He’ll get over it eventually.”_  
  
Arthur damned well hope so as he couldn’t promise to keep his temper forever if his father continued to be haughty. It made him feel ashamed two years or so ago he was _just_ like that himself. He was just glad that Gwen didn’t seem to be bothered by anything Uther said.  
  
_“I’ve been called worse names,”_ she told Arthur.  
  
Arthur wouldn’t let the names continue. He promised himself that at that very moment as he shot his father another fierce glare.  
  
But Uther didn’t want to remain on bad terms with his son. He was acting up merely because he was expected to more than he was bothered. The thought of having a commoner as a daughter-in-law still shocked him but it wasn’t like it was the end of the world. Besides a commoner in a royal position might be useful politically in keeping the proletariat in line; he could distract them with Guinevere’s presence. It wasn’t the nicest thing to feel pleased about but it was, admittedly, the first thing that popped into Uther’s head at that point.  
  
When Arthur finally judged it decent enough to declare he was tired and wished to go to bed everyone decided to call it an ‘early night’. It had been a long day and they were all rather tired. Everyone expect Arthur or Gwen. They were excited; had refused any wine and heavy food that would make them tired. He might have leaped on her the moment they returned to Tintagel had she not suggested they wait until the talks were finalised. In the ain scheme of things Arthur realised she was right.  
  
They had felt a little embarrassed by the jeering from the travelling parties and the chuckles from Merlin and Gawain. Arthur couldn’t help noticing that his servant and cousin had become good friends over the course of the journey. He told Merlin that he would not need his assistance for the rest of the night and Gwen told Ysgyrdav and Ysgudydd the same.  
  
After a day of showing Arthur around the place that had more or less been her prison for the last month Gwen showed him the chambers in which she had dwelt. He wasn’t as interested in that as he had been with the views from the cliff or the legendary cave of Eluned. They were both more interested in getting re-acquainted with each other.  
  
_“I know this is not Camelot,”_ Arthur said. They slowly undressed each other, using all their power not to just rip the material from their bodies and grasp at each other, flesh on flesh. _“I know this is not actually our marriage bed. I know this isn’t even our first time together...”_  
  
Gwen kissed him tenderly on the lips. _“It is our first time as a married couple.”_  
  
_“You don’t mind, do you?”_ Arthur asked, distracted as her hands slid up his chest to shoulders. She held her half-clothed body against him. _“That it isn’t our first time. That we didn’t wait...?”_  
  
She kissed him again. _“I’m glad we didn’t. For a long time I thought that was all we would ever have. I wouldn’t give up the memory of that midsummer for anything.”_  
  
That had been their first time. Midsummer. It had been three nights before that they had agreed to take _that_ step. They had snuck away from the bonfire early without anyone noticing and gone back to Arthur's chambers. Gwen could remember everything about it so vividly; it had been painful at first but she hadn’t cared. The feeling of all of him presed up against her still make her skin burn with want. The sun never went down that night and it had all added to the atmosphere. It had been wonderful, _magical_. Even Merlin and Morgana didn’t know where they had gone, but they had the sense to lie about it to Uther when he asked both of them.  
  
_“Besides,”_ she said, reaching down to pull off his shirt. _“I’m rather glad we got all that awkwardness out of the way. At least we know what we’re doing tonight.”_  
  
Arthur rolled breathlessly to one side, now fully awake and satisfied. It had been the first time he had felt so pleased to see a new day in a long time. The thrill of knowing that every morning he woke up he would turn over to see Gwen and not an empty space just added more and more to his satisfaction. He hummed pleasantly as she rolled to her side and ran her hand across his chest.  
  
“Still think it takes me a while to get going in the morning?” Arthur asked, lopping his own arm around her waist to pull her closer.  
  
Gwen chuckled and kissed his shoulder. “You certainly showed me. That was _lovely_.”  
  
He lifted his head slightly. “Lovely? Is that all? I might have to ‘show you’ again.”  
  
“I wouldn’t want to tire you out on our second day married,” Gwen said teasingly. “Lovely is a good compliment.”  
  
“ _You’re_ lovely.”  
  
“Lovely? Is that all?” she replied, copying his tone.  
  
“Alright then,” Arthur said enthusiastically, rolling her onto her back again and plating swift kisses over her lips, neck and chest. Gwen laughed as he did so. He kissed each time he listed a quality. “You’re lovely, and pretty, and intelligent, and beautiful, and sweet, and wonderful, and amazing, and...” he stopped for a moment before he kissed her again, “And I’ve run out of words, so I’ll say beautiful again...”  
  
“Your wide vocabulary is a treat for the ears, Arthur” Gwen joked. “It really is.”  
  
“Did I mention ‘beautiful’? I could write you a letter, listing your qualities?” he suggested humorously.  
  
“I’d rather you just kept kissing me.”  
  
“Then who am I to refuse my wife?”  
  
He continued to kiss her for another few minutes or so before Gwen shifted to sit up. Arthur leaned up too. “We should get up,” Gwen told him. “It’s late.”  
  
“Why are we going somewhere?” he asked sarcastically.  
  
“I just think it’s time we got up,” she told him, moving out from under him.  
  
“Do we have to?”  
  
“We don’t have to but we should.”  
  
He kissed her again. “I’d rather just stay here.”  
  
“We can continue with this later and any time we want. You haven’t even spoken to your father since... well, since I left before.”  
  
Arthur sighed and pulled himself out of bed. “I have nothing much to say to him.”  
  
Gwen sat up, clutched her knees and rested her chin again them. She watched as he started to get dressed, delaying doing so herself. “We’re together now and the treaty is signed,” she said softly. “You can forgive him now.”  
  
“It doesn’t matter that the treaty is signed now; when he sent you away he did so wanting to get rid of you,” Arthur said bluntly, and he spun around to look at her. He felt warmth run through his heart at the sight of her sat up in bed, calm and serene. “I still can’t... forgive him for that.”  
  
She bit her bottom lip. “The last thing you want to do is be on bad terms with your father when you have to go off and fight in Lot’s war.”  
  
A dart of pain shot through Arthur’s chest. He didn’t want to think about the war. It wasn’t guilt over leaving things badly with his father that worried him; it was being separated from Gwen. He didn’t know how he was meant to survive without her sensible advice, her understanding ear and her sweet body to keep him company. It almost felt like he’d be losing her again. He didn’t want to think about it.  
  
“You’re right,” he sighed in admittance. “I just... I just can’t explain to you how much it hurt that he did _that_. I was locked up in those dungeons and... I didn’t even get to say goodbye.”  
  
Gwen moved forward, wrapped the bed sheet around her and placed her hands on his chest. “I know but I’m here now. It hurt me too, not saying goodbye.”  
  
“I wanted to make him hurt as much as he hurt me,” Arthur went on. “But not speaking to him... it just didn’t cover how much I was hurting. There was nothing short of stabbing him through the heart that could match how he hurt both of us. Even then it would be half the pain.”  
  
She stroked his arm. “Let’s not think about it anymore. I’m not saying you have to forgive him straight away, but don’t block him out forever. If you do that he’ll never accept us.”  
  
Arthur didn’t want that. He was more concerned for Gwen’s sake then for his father’s. He could live without his father’s constant wrangling but he didn’t want to make things harder for Guinevere. He wanted her to live as peacefully and happily as possible as his wife. He didn’t want his father to resent her for the fact that Arthur couldn’t forgive him. And he would – that was the way Uther’s mind worked.  
  
“Things will get better,” Gwen added softly. “I know it will.”  
  
Arthur leaned forward to kiss her again. He then moved away to put his shirt on, and changed the subject slightly.  
  
“Did you hear that father and Anna plan for us all to return to Camelot to finalise their treaty?” he asked her and he moved over to get it.  
  
“I heard it,” she said quietly. “I’ll be strange to go home again.”  
  
“Everyone has missed you.”  
  
“It won’t be the same,” she chuckled nervously. “When I left I was just the servant girl Gwen. Now I’m going back and I’m the wife of the crowned prince. It’ll be strange.”  
  
“You’ll get used to it,” he smiled back. “Just think about all those people that called you names falling over each other to pay you tribute... and you can tell them where to stuff it.”  
  
Gwen laughed. “I hadn’t thought about it like that.”  
  
“That’s because you’re too nice. They’ll all be kicking themselves once news reaches Camelot of our marriage and father’s acceptance of it. I like Sir Ector and Lady Ector will die!”  
  
“Has Kay finally asked Gladys to marry him?” Gwen suddenly asked curiously.  
  
“Yes,” Arthur replied. “He asked her just after you left. I think he was worried any longer might lead to disapproval from his stick-arsed father and mother. Gladys is a bit older than him after all.”  
  
“I’m glad he’s happy,” Gwen said with a smile. “I have always liked Lady Bedivere-soon-to-be-Kay.”  
  
“You could have her as one of your ladies-in-waiting,” Arthur suggested, jumping down onto the bed to get his boots on. “You can have up to three of the lower ranking noblewomen to be at your constant back and call. When you’re queen you can have another three and maids of honour.”  
  
“How exciting,” Gwen said jokily. “I think it would be nice to have Gladys. I don’t expect her to like me back but—”  
  
“She likes you,” Arthur assured her.  
  
“As a servant...”  
  
“As a person, I promise you” he told her, and turned around to face her. “More people like you then you think. The whole of Camelot fell behind you when Elaine turned up, not that Elaine was all that bothered. Sir Leon’s wife couldn’t stop talking about you, either.”  
  
Gwen laughed. “I have _always_ liked Leonora!”  
  
He laughed too and then looked down at her still unclothed body. “You aren’t dressed yet. Do you need any help?”  
  
“Oh ho!” she remarked in amusement.  
  
The suggestion was clearly meant to be teasing and flirty but Gwen found the concept of him dressing her funny, given she had spent her whole life dressing other people. She would like to have seen him tackle some of the fastening on the dresses she now wore. Even she had some difficulty with them and had to ask Ysgyrdav to help her. She would miss Ysgyrdav and Ysgudydd when she went home.  
  
She lay back in the bed and sighed happily.  
  
“You were the one that said we should get up,” Arthur said.  
  
He hypnotised at being able to see her through the white bed sheet. He thought he might get used to seeing her naked, but he didn’t.  
  
“ _You_ were the one who wanted to stay in bed,” Gwen replied huskily. “I’ve never seen you dress yourself before.”  
  
She reached out to stroke his arm again.  
  
That was a good point – she hadn’t seen him dress before. She always felt too early in the morning to see him put his clothes on. It was a unique sight that now she was bound to see every morning for the rest of her life now.  
  
Arthur kept staring at her. “Aren’t you getting up then?”  
  
“In a minute,” she said with a coy smile.  
  
It was strange but although Gwen was still a little awkward with sounding overtly sexual there was something unbelievably seductive about her coyness. The muscles in Arthur’s stomach just twitched at the thought of it. He could feel himself starting to get worked up again. It was really counterproductive to having just dressed himself. Suddenly he felt more at a disadvantage than she did, and she wasn’t wearing anything.  
  
Gwen continued to rub circles into the skin of his hand. Arthur twitched again. “I thought you said you didn’t want to tire me out,” he croaked.  
  
She shrugged her shoulders slightly. “You were the one that wanted to ‘show me’ again. Do you feel tired out?”  
  
He swallowed thickly. “No.”  
  
“Well then,” she said, and moved her hand away. “You’ve shown me that you can dress without help. Now, let’s see how quickly you can undress without help.”   
  
-  
  
It was another half an hour before Arthur emerged from Gwen’s chambers. He had an expression like the cat that had got the cream. Lots and lots of cream. On the way out he was lucky enough to bump into Ysgyrdav on the way out. She was a little surprised and flustered to see Arthur. She was an old woman but even she could appreciate the young prince’s good looks – she finally understood why Gwen had longed and wept for him. He asked her if she was busy, to which she said no.  
  
“Good,” he said, pointing into the bedroom. “Gwen is having trouble with doing up the fastenings on her dress.”


	10. Author's Note

A lot of research went into the writing of _To You an Admirer_ , a lot more than I ever intended. I have always had an interest in Arthurian legend, and I loved putting in the tiny details of the mythology to fuel the story. I’m sure there are a few other legend boffins out there that were excited when they recognised a nod to the legends; when I read other people’s stories I know, I feel a rush whenever there is a concept I recognise. However, I realise that a good majority of you might only know the basics of the legend, and what basics you do know comes primarily from the Arthurian Romances written between the 12th and 15th century and all of which were written in a post-Anglo-Saxon society, not a British world (or even an English world) but a French one. Therefore I have decided to write up some of the details of the legends and even the history that I used while writing this story.  
  
_Geography_  
My use of 5th/6th century British geography to map the kingdoms of Albion is not unlike the way the show does. For example, Mercia, as anyone who has studied Dark Age British history, will know was a real Angle kingdom existing in Britain at the time Arthur was alive. It would eventually develop into one of the most powerful kingdoms in Britain. Other countries mentioned in Merlin such as Northumbria (In 1x05 as a cover story for Lancelot) and Deira (In 2x02 as a cover story for William) were also historical kingdoms within Britain. One thing I will note is that Northumbria did not actually come into existence as an actual kingdom until the 7th century (by which time Arthur and company would have been long dead). So, like the show, I also used the names of the kingdoms a loosely as I could.  
  
Firstly is my choice where to position Camelot. In true ‘tradition’ to the legends (both Welsh mythology and French romance) I placed Camelot in Dumnonia, a kingdom wedged between Cornwall and two other kingdoms (both were British, so no Saxons or Angles on their doorstep). Historically Cornwall (Cerniw) and Dumnonia were part of the same kingdom, but the kingdom was split up between two heirs. Just as Arthur’s family are associated with Dumnonia, they are also associated with Cornwall not least because of the Gorlois-Uther-Igraine gate in true ‘King David’ tradition. So, I created an idea that it had been a long-held dream that one day Cornwall and Camelot once again be united as one kingdom, but the odds between Uther and Cador over Gorlois death made such a union unlikely.  
  
This is where it starts to get complicated. Initially, I thought that Dumnonia would be the state that Uther Pendragon rules as king. However, after further research, I discovered that Dumnonia had a series of sub-kings with no overall high-king. This was due to kings splitting their kingdoms between their sons. It was common to practise in Wales too as well as the West. Then in 2x10 of Merlin, we discover that Uther is one of ‘five kings’. It was then I decided that Dumnonia should be split into five sub-kingdoms with sub-kings of which Uther would have the most land and power. I figured this because of the fact the other four kings came to Camelot, and the fact that the treaty they signed is held in Camelot. It also seemed to me that the fact Alined was permanently without cash and he didn’t have as larger income as Uther does (I.E. his kingdom isn’t as large as Camelot). Hence at one point in the story where I (roughly) describe the borders of Camelot I mention two sea fronts (The Irish Sea in the north and the Channel in the south), to the west Cornwall and the east ‘minor kingdoms’.  
  
I used the names of Olaf and Alined from Series 2 as two of the sub-kings within Dumnonia. Then Uther makes three. There was no Margh (Mark); I chose this name because it was common at the time so that he could be anybody. Some of you may have felt your ears burn when I mentioned the fifth sub-king of Dumnonia as Lord Melwas. To anyone who knows the Arthurian legends he is _extremely_ significant not least because of his part in the legends but also because he was an actual sub-king of Dumnonia. He was the King of Glastening (The Summer Country).  
  
As well as having minor kingdoms surrounding Camelot in Dumnonia I also decided that Glastonbury (which I refer to as ‘Tor’) would be a holy land that is ruled by no one and is considered sacred land that anyone in the area could safely enter and ‘claim sanctuary’. The reason I did this was for three reasons; one, I wanted Arthur and Gwen to have somewhere safe to go to and, two, significant to them because in Medieval tradition it was near Tor where the pair were buried. The third reason is that it was an important religious point (for Pagans and Christians), did have important places of worship and was supposedly the location of Avalon... so I figured any magical places that Merlin visits (most importantly the Isle of the Blessed in 1x13) could be located here.  
  
To quickly clarify, I decided that Merlin’s kingdom would not be one of the kingdoms of Dumnonia (and rightly too from the looks of 2x13 Cenred is not a fan of Camelot). I imagine it is also a minor kingdom, neighbouring Dumnonia (from the way Uther described it in 1x10) and possibly one that is influenced by the eastern kingdoms (‘Cenred’ is a name associated with the kingdom of Wessex and a possible relative of another traditional enemy of ‘Arthyr of the Britons’ – Cerdic, king of Wessex). Of course the show will _never_ go into such detail but this is what I was thinking when I wrote this. I decided to keep Merlin’s homeland unnamed as was done in the show. Traditionally Myrddin’s homeland is also unknown because he was well known in both Welsh and Scottish tradition. However, it is commonly thought by bards and writers that he originally hailed Dyfed in Wales. However there is no way that Arthur and Merlin could walk from Camelot to Dyfed using my geography as the journey would mean travelling through several different kingdoms. The only way someone could go straight from one to another would be to get on a boat.  
  
Now for the rest of Albion, starting with the country ruled by Queen Anna and King Lot. I decided – off my own back more than any Arthurian or historical reading – that with the lands they rule they would be the most powerful monarchs in the north. The kingdom that Lot was supposed to have ruled was Goddodin (within which lay Lothian). Still, I also gave him the Orkney islands as part of his ‘empire’ as well simply because in Medieval legend he did supposedly rule them and I wanted to give him as much clout as I could. The ‘royal resident’ of Lot and Anna’s family (AKA their version of Camelot) is Eidin, which is an older name for Edinburgh supposedly founded by Lot (Hence why Gawain states that Lothian is named after his father – which it probably is). I decided to use the medieval concept (which almost certainly isn’t true) that Urien of Rheged is Lot’s younger brother to extend the clout even further. The war in Rheged is just a fictional conflict I created and Prince Claudius is also just made up; the name is borrowed from a minor French romance character but there the connection ends.  
  
Other kingdoms I mentioned such as Elmet are all also kingdoms around at the time all of these places were. Interestingly enough 100 years after my ‘story’ is complete Northumbria swallowed up Elmet as part of its kingdom.  
  
_People_  
The person I should start with first is **Anna** because she is essentially the driving force behind the main plot of the story. In the original legends Anna was the daughter of Uther and Igraine, thus Arthur’s full sister. She is also referred to as Anna-Morgause or simply ‘Morgause’ (which means ‘of the islands’ hence the Orkney connection). Obviously in this story there is no likeness between Anna and Morgause from Series 2 (and you can imagine how grateful I am that I decided to use the original name from than ‘Morgause’). In later legends she was the mother of many children but originally she had only two (at the most three) sons; Gawain and Medraut (Mordred).   
  
In the core legends it is believed that Igraine was the daughter of **Amlawdd** and **Gwen** , daughter of **Cunedda** \- the founding king of Gwynedd. I decided to use this idea in this fic because I may draw upon it later should I continue writing in this universe. I should point out that I state that Cunedda's daughter (Anna, Igraine and Tristan's mother) was called "Gwenhwyfar". Please note that there is no evidence that was her full name - I just wanted to give her a fuller name that simply "Gwen". I was also worried I would confuse some of the readers.  
  
In the story since Uther and Igraine obviously had no children other than Arthur I decided to make Anna the younger sister of Igraine and thus aunt to Arthur. This is based on some variations of the legends where the writers cannot decide whether Anna-Morgause is Arthur’s sister or aunt. It was beneficial in several ways; I could make Gawain an age contemporary to Arthur (following the tradition of the show) and was able to give Arthur a grown-up female relative that is powerful yet maternal. The main thing I wanted was to give Albion a mighty monarch who also happened to be a queen rather than a king (because so far there have only been kings in Albion, no queens). Although she is only a queen via marriage it is she who runs the country while Lot goes around picking battles with his army.  
  
Historically **Lot** was known as Lot of the Host, an entourage or army of fighters, which was why I really played on the idea that he was a warrior in the strictest sense and that Anna is the one that runs the kingdom in terms of state affairs and so on. He doesn’t appear in the story but I see him (and wrote him) as a man who lacks little interest in state affairs and happily leaves Anna to them. Although he recognises Anna’s intelligence and trusts her ability he is a violent and dangerous individual (hence Cador and Uther’s lower opinion and fear of him). The bottom line is he lacks interest in who is daughter Elaine marries as long as he gets money and an army. By allying Cador and Uther Anna manages to provide both for him thus keeping him happy and, above all, off her back.  
  
I have already vaguely mentioned Anna and Lot’s children. I decided very early on to make Anna not only a powerful queen but a matriarch – something which her poor sister was never able to be – thus making her not only a force to be reckoned with but someone Uther might envy due to her giving Lot plenty of children. Each of the children is based on various traditions ranging from Welsh, Latin and French. (Mordred obviously has nothing to do with Arthur and his father so he is not among the children). I also decided to cut Gaheris from the line up because he is just a cut away character of Gareth.  
  
Of the brothers **Gawain** is the most famous of Anna’s children and his connection to her/Arthur dates back to the oldest sources mentioning both Arthur and Gawain. In the legends he has always been Arthur’s nephew and referred to as ‘The Perfect Knight’, the greatest knight of all. The dragon alludes to Gawain’s greatness when he speaks of him, as I love a little foreshadowing. **Agravain** is simply a medieval character with no (as far as I know) historical backing. My reason for including him is because he was reported to have been (along with Mordred) a bad egg in the Orkney clan. If I continue this verse with “Learn to be Lonely” it might come into play. **Gareth** has some original grounding along with Gawain and Mordred and might have been the third brother I mentioned. He was the youngest of the brothers (as he is in this story) and a great knight in his own right. He is probably most famous in romances such as the tale of _Gareth and Lynette_.  
  
Of the sisters **Elaine** is the only truly significant one. There are several Elaines/Elens in the legends including one of Arthur’s sisters, one of Arthur’s nieces, several queens, the Lady of Shalott and the most famous of all being The Grail Maiden. I decided to combine all the Elaines of legend into one Elaine – Arthur’s cousin and Gawain’s sister. The idea of an Elaine being Gawain’s sister came from one legend I have read whereby _Didot Percival_ , where Elaine falls in love with Percival. Generally the reason I originally called her Elaine was partly by chance and partly to make the writers laugh at the irony, so to speak. If the TYAA-verse is continued I might explore Elaine’s character more. The other two sisters **Clarissant** and **Norcadet** are the names of two other sisters attributed to Gawain; the latter is more often given as an alternative name for Anna-Morgause in the legends. It might be a name to watch out for in the TV show if the writers trying Googling it.  
  
**Cador** is based on an actual person who is named as the High-King of Dumnonia during the 6th century AD. His name was Cado. It is dubious what his actual connection to Gorlois is as in different Arthurian legends he is named as anything from a brother (This is the most common role), to a son, to a son-in-law or brother-in-law. I decided to make him a brother to, much like I did with Anna, present someone who was a contemporary of Uther, who remembers the old days and so on. In the core legends Cador was instrumental in aiding Arthyr in the rescue of Gwenhwyfar from Lord Melwas and then in later legends he is credited as having been the man that raised Guinevere was his charge/ward. Therefore I incorporated this into the story and made Cador a friend of Guinevere’s (now departed) father to create a history and make him a believable father-figure to her.  
  
Gwen's two servants are Tintagel, **Ysgyrdav** and **Ysgudydd** were two of her actual servants in the Welsh legends.  
  
You will note that I referred to Tristan Dubois is several places, particularly at the end with Cador's recount of the death of his two friends **Mark** and **Esyllt**. Some of you might recognise them in association with Tristan in legends. The story of the fire is completely fictionalised as too is the idea that Mark was Tristan, Igraine and Anna's cousin. In the legends, however, Tristan was related to Mark by blood although accounts differ. The Mark of legend had no connection to the Gwynedd family as far as I know although he is associated with Cornwall. The reason I made the connection was because Cunedda's eldest son Tybion had a son called Mark. I decided to combine the two.  
  
If there are any legenday posts you'd like me to explain or that I have missed then please let me know and I will add it.


End file.
